The Guardians went to celebrate Jack's induction and Pitch's defeat yet again. Sandman shook his head of his nagging guilt; the same one that have weighted since the fall of the Golden Age, the one that grows even more heavy with Morpheus ambient echo coursing in his sand.
He wonder if the Guardians would be keen to trust him if they knew the truth. It funny that he only trust Morpheus because he knew that very truth. He hope the day that they find the truth would never come, not so much of their distrust that he deserves but because they would stop him from doing what he has been doing for the unknown eons.
Penance and atonement.
The Guardians and Tsar Lunar, they would never understand for they thought that they were good and Pitch was bad. They would never know of fear and guilt that the Two Kings of Dreams would know. They, even Jack to a lesser extant, would see the world in black and white.
It was that same feeling that drove Sandy to find Pitch Black. As soon he able to communicate his convincing lie of watching over Burgess so soon after victory, he left the party at the North Pole to rest and to find Pitch. Jack looked at him in concern when he left. He briefly wondered if the Guardians have any idea how little they know about him.
Even Lunar is clueless to the nature of a Star.
Pitch Black was in pain. He silently wonder why Morpheus gave him power. All this uncertainly was not worth the power to defeat the Guardians. It seems that even with this power over dreams was still not enough.
Now he is plague by his memories, memories of the past that he had forgot and now remembered. Now he being attacked by his own fears. He could feel his wounds, both physical and mental.
The very hole that is his realm started to turn gray.
He sometimes wish he can not remember who once was. Not to remember the once great man that have fallen. That creature's laughing as he fell. The cruel laugh that drove him into losing everything. His family, his life as a general, his very soul to be forever tainted. That cruel laugh.
Sandman drifted into his thoughts. It was ironic that someone he tried to kill so many times was like him in many ways. He wondered about the darkness in Sanderson's heart. He could see the darkness when no one else could. Does the Guardians know? Not likely, Sanderson was always like to hid secrets, especially if it hurts someone. Yet while he fell, Sandy rose despite, or maybe because of it.
Pitch silently wished that he could have said goodbye to his beloved daughter, Seraphina, while his mind is at its clearest as the sweet blackness consume him.
Sandy settle into his Dreamsand bed on his island to sleep and acclimatize himself to his disorientating return from the dead and to secretly send the Dreamsand out to locate Pitch. He needed the rest if he is to compensate for the change that happened because of Morpheus.
He could feel changes happening. Even his emotions seem different then his normal compassion. They seem more desolate feelings coexisting with his optimist feelings. He hopes that the sad feelings will not affect his exterior appearance. The last thing he needs is the Guardians to worry about him.
He does not want them worry about him.
In the Dream, he looks to see the world he created so long ago.
It was still a version of the old home during the Golden Ages but now the gold color of the Dreamsand is changing into many colors. Like it used to look like when it still existed.
With a frown he looks towards the full length mirror in his 'room'. His heart ache at the memories.
He look into the star bright eyes of Morpheus looking down at him in his reflection.
They stared at each other until Morpheus sighed, "Lets get the point. Are we now the same person? Or am I just a piece of him that is here?"
Sanderson stared at this cosmic being who is as old as the Universe, yet who can not deduce what happened when he surrendered one of his dreamstones over to him, Sandy, a being who unknown centuries plus years, yet seem minuscule in comparison to him. He did the only thing that makes sense; he laughed a silent tear inducing laugh.
It took a month of sleeping to finally be able to stay wake enough without passing out. A month was an improvement then the centuries he have been known to sleep. And to his joy, his sand was finally able to locate the Nightmare King.
When he arrived to the lair, it was quiet, too quiet. It was movement that that lead Sandy to his goal. The Nightmares were trying to get the fearlings away from Pitch's still form. After gently nudging in, he found Pitch in a cocoon of fearlings. With a slight but powerful touch, the fearlings retreated. There was Pitch in a pool of his own bleeding shadows.
Frowning, he called upon Morpheus' touch and gently dabbed the worse of the wounds and allowing the magic sand to heal and seal the wounds. After all the major wounds are healing and the minor ones completely healed he turned his attention to returning Pitch's strength via Morpheus powers.
As he placed his tiny hands on Pitch's chest, his thoughts were conflicted with worry on the best course of action. When he felt strength return to the once general, he smile at Pitch and sat down. Sandy mentally groans at how much the Pitchiner family is trouble. What in the world was his sister was thinking when she married into the family?
He settled on running his hands though Pitch hair as he waits for consciousness.
Pitch stirred with a groan, his bronze eyes opened with a clarity that he had not seen in a long time.
Pitch wondered if he was dead for the pain faded. Pitch felt so warm, his pain was gone, and he could even feel warm sandy fingers brush though his hair. Sand! Confused, he slowly opened his eyes hoping it not a delusion to his dying mind to see one of Sandman's hand running though his hair.
Yet all he wants to know why.
"Why do you care?"
Sandy surprised, looked down with guilt and fear. Even now the fear told him it was a fear of being hated. Strange that Sanderson would feel that towards him. But why? Soaking in Sanderson's fear, he knew, it was a fear of having the truth revealed.
"What are you afraid of Little Man?"
Sandy looked stricken before steeling himself. He carefully sat at Pitch's head and carefully set his forehead against Pitch's. A soft breath in his hair was the warning of the onslaught of memories.
Memories of pain, guilt, death, murder, and hope.
Sandy jolted away and gave heavy breaths. Leaning on the wall, his eyes filled with tears waiting for the words he dreaded.
Pitch smiled, he now knew why Sandy always tried to help. He should hate Sanderson for his past, for his part, for not saving her but he is so tired of hating. So tired of being hated, it nice to get such kindness even if it out of family obligation. So he gave Sanderson a smile and hoarsely whispered, "I can see the resemblance."
Sandy, looking relieved, smiled.
XIXIXIXIXIXIX
Officially in The Guardians of Childhood, Mother Nature's name is Emily Jane Pitchiner. I like the fan made name, Seraphina Pitchiner, better.
I admit I am completely using my own headcanon for this. There is little known about the Sandman's life before being a Star Pilot so I am taking creative liberties for the history of some of the characters to give the story the dark touch I want. I also wanted the Sandman and the Nightmare King to be related, hence making them in-laws.
If some of the phrasing sound familiar. I was inspired by other angst RotG. I try not to copy it, so any similar phrases was accidental. My first attempt at angst.