Disclaimer: Don't own anything except the idea, obviously.

Warnings: Character Death. That's it. And it's not even a main character.

Merry Christmas Max! I hope you like it... I'm sorry for the shortness of it, but this was an odd story, even for me.

Love, Keta

The World Between Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Sometimes when the moon is full, Sanderson Mansnoozie catches glimpses of the man he once held dearer than anyone else, his counterpart, Pitch Black. When he catches these rare sights, he strains to see the flitting silver strands of sand and the spirit that glides among them, and he smiles but doesn't wave; he knows that Allen is still mad at him.

He never expected that when Pitch agreed to try a relationship with him all those years earlier that Manny would find it amusing to give them a little spirit child to have and unconditionally love until the end of time; Allen, however, did not give Sandman the same affections he granted his carrier. Once their son was old enough to form his own opinions, Allen fell in love with fearlings, tormented children and went off on his half-sister for her absence, because Pitch was everything to Allen.

When their relationship fell apart, a conflict of interests, you could say, Sandy lost all rights to see his son, but in those brief moments by the moon's light, he could see his son again.

There's a party, the Summer Solstice, in the workshop one night after Pitch's defeat, and in the midst of merrymaking, Sandman feels his inner sand chill; Allen is there. Everyone notices when silver tendrils of sand push the crowd apart, and every spirit stands transfixed and frightened when a smaller figure emerges from the shadows under the doors, many fearing that it's the boogeyman himself. But Sandy knows better.

'Allen, what are you doing up north? I thought you weren't leaving your father's side for a while.'

"I needed to talk to you more." There's an odd edge to the albino's voice, rough like the sand that twists around him, a coiled cobra that's ready to strike. "Manny," the spirit whispers as a lone tendril drifts up to the shutters on the skylight that lets the ancient being's light in. "You shouldn't see this." The moment the shutters are shut, his coiled sand lashes out at his other father, only to be deflected by its golden counterpart.

Sand particles mix as the two entities fight, forming similar weapons at every turn until they finally end up with whips. Their chosen weapons are more lively than the thing they're modeled after, and after a moment, Sandy's reaches the top; many of the spirits then realize what he's planning to do. 'I know you don't particularly like the light, my son, but you should spend more time in it."

Their whips connect, intertwining in the Moon's light, and at last, the albino looks up at his other father completely and spits out, "you speak of light, but you and your guardians left us to rot in the darkness..." His silver eyes are hard like stone, and his sand falls away like it never existed. "You love those children more than anyone else, but you forget that Daddy and I were just the same once... You forget that we were your family first."

There is a world between Nightmares and Dreams where the silver sand drifts into little heads and lets them dream of nothingness. The maker of this sand had fallen in love with the two kinds of dreams and decided one night to combine them, making a sweet nothingness to cradle the sleeper. This silver sand cannot ordinarily be seen by any child, even those few who believe in him through extension of his parents, but one boy, now a pesky little spirit, had.

Jack Frost had forgotten the silver sand weaver, after his death and rebirth, until the day he saw Allen again, and he, with confusion, asks who he is.

'He's my son... mine and Pitch's.'

Jack stares at the smaller guardian with disbelief. "You and Pitch had a kid?!"

Sandman silently snorts and looks up at the sprite with amusement. 'You did not know that Pitch and I were once a couple.' When the albino shakes his head, he sighs and sends out a tendril of sand, only to return without touching the intended child; Allen has already marked her. 'He was given to us by Manny, and after we spilt up, he chose to stay with Pitch; he always loved him more. At least before we fought his other father, he would come and sit with me...'

"Why haven't I seen him?"

'He never comes out during the day or sticks around when another spirit is present, which is another thing he has in common with Pitch,' Sandy answers, golden eyes watching the little, darkened houses with concern. 'But sometimes, I'll come to a child that he's given a dreamless sleep... That's his ability... He once used it on you.'

"And?"

The little golden man smiles at the winter sprite's impatience, reminded of his son for a moment, and he almost reaches out to ruffle the sitting teenager's hair like he would once do to Allen. 'I cannot completely undo his magic... You don't dream very often unless I directly induce it, yes?' Jack nods. 'Even in your new life, you belong to him.'

Jack's surprised to see Allen one night as he gazes up at the stars and Manny, slimmed down to a measly sliver in the sky. A dancing tendril of silver passes overhead, making him jump up and fly after it as it and the silver sand maker head in the direction of Jamie Bennett's house. He sees the pale specter slip into one of the windows that he eventually identifies as Sophie's, and immediately, he races in after Allen, pinning the surprised spirit against the wall and effectively stopping his silver sand from touching the girl.

"Not her."

"Why not?" the albino asks. "It would be good for her."

Enraged, Jack snaps, "how can taking away someone's ability to dream be good for them?!"

Allen laughs and reaches out to touch the winter teenager's face, shocking Jack with the coolness of his undead touch. "You misunderstand... I undermine both of my parent's work on children that I think would benefit greatly from an absence of fear and a curiosity for dreams... After all," he whispers and phases through the wall only to walk back in a few feet away. "Look at what my gift has given to you..."

"I died when I was a teenager."

There is no hatred or spite in that sentence, and so Allen treats it as gentle as he can and replies with no malice or bite. "And you became a guardian... I took away many of your fears and instilled a desire to make your own dreams, your own fun. I am not saying that you saved your sister because of me..." He looks at the little girl sleeping so soundly in her bed and smiles, so soft. "She will die in her twenties... A natural disaster no doubt. A nature preservationist with so much heart! All she needs is my gift." Jack can't summon the will up stop the whitette again as he presses his hand, shining with silver sand particles, to her forehead, and they dissolve, sending her into a fitful dream. Allen leaves then without another word.

Jack doesn't see Allen again until the day Sophie graduates high school, but they do not speak. The next time is when Sophie goes to the airport to Haiti; she doesn't die then… She dies on her fourth trip to the island nation.

The older spirit has a look of both sadness and relief on his face as he watches the funeral from a vantage point in the tree, and he, unnoticed by the humans, weaves through them to lay a silver, sand rose in her coffin before the lid is closed for the last time. It isn't until the humans leave the two spirits alone with the newly filled grave that Allen finally turns to look at Jack. "Even though I knew… It didn't make it any easier…" He sighs loudly. "I used to be accused of twisting human minds for my own demonic amusements."

"Who sad that?" asks the winter sprite, wondering who would say something so blatantly cruel.

"Just about everyone."

"Well they're wrong." Allen cocks and eyebrow, wondering what the other is thinking. "You obviously cared about Sophie… You still care about me, don't you?"

"Of course I do…" The older whitette turns around, intending to go back to Pitch's realm. "Goodnight, Jackson… I'll be in touch…"