FicWad

Dr Benzedrine took a step back in surprise as a whirl of green appeared in front of him.
"D... Donnie?" he stammered. "How did you find me?"
"Mr Crab knew where you were," he explained, a little puzzled over the answer himself.
"Mr Crab!" Benzedrine cried. "How... I mean... He sent you?”
“Yeah, but what are you doing in the Dream World?”

Benzedrine frowned; none of the replies that were coming to him made any sense.

“He said two Normal Worlders were here and I had to help them. But I don't know why,” Benzedrine scoured his memory; it seemed to be full of gaps. “Donnie, I think I've forgotten something important."
“How did you get into this nightmare anyway?” Donnie continued his questions.

Benzedrine shook his head. “I don't remember. There's something in here trying to kill me… I think… but I don't remember what.”

"We'll get you out of here first, then we'll worry about that."
"We?" Benzedrine asked.

Donnie smiled. "The two Normal Worlders you mentioned and two more. One second," he said setting his balance as Joe came hurtling through the air. Catching him in one fluid movement, Donnie deposited Joe on the floor before resetting himself ready to catch Andy.

"I'm never going to get used to that," Joe complained as he gathered his wits.
"You! You're not Mr Crab are you?" Benzedrine spat angrily. "You promised me the L word if I found Patrick and his friend, Pete. You lied to me!"
"How do you know?" Joe asked surprised by the outburst.
"Mr Crab would never need Donnie to catch him."
"You haven't seen him for generations, how do you know what he needs?" Joe replied indignantly.
"Well... I... That's not the point! You're not him are you?"
"No," Joe sighed jabbing thumb in Mr Crab's direction, having seen him land neatly and gracefully alongside Donnie. "He is!"

Benzedrine was dumbstruck. The real Mr H Shoe Crab, right there in front of him, helping to rescue him. It was unbelievable.

"Okay, where is he?" Pete asked, drawing curious glances from Benzedrine and Donnie.
"Who?" Benzedrine asked, as puzzled as Donnie by the question.
"Mr Sandman?" Met with only blank stares, Pete tried again. "Your brother! The one that got us all into this mess."
"What are you talking about?" Benzedrine frowned. "I don't have a brother."

Pete turned swiftly to stare at Patrick who was equally dumbstruck. Looking back, Pete marched up to Benzedrine.

“If this is some sort of trap, don't think we won't fight you!” he yelled jabbing a finger into Benzedrine's chest.
“I know you… don't I?” Benzedrine replied, ignoring Pete's hectoring tone. “You look like someone I… have we met?”
“Are you serious?” Pete's brow creased in confusion. “I remind you of your brother!”
“I don't have…” Benzedrine yelled only to stop abruptly and stared at Donnie. “I did think I'd forgotten something. Could I really have…?”
“He's Mr Sandman,” Pete explained, hoping for a glimmer of remembrance. “Marcus…”
“Joshua,” Andy added.
“Yeah! Marcus Joshua Sandman,” Pete glanced from Benzedrine to Donnie and back. “Don't either of you remember?”

Having eyed the group during their conversation, but kept a close watch on the surrounding area, Andy stepped forward.

“Guys, we're being watched. Don't look, but there's a balcony that runs all the way around this place and I've seen movement behind it, mostly shadows, but there's something or several somethings watching us.”
“You think whatever's up there might have Mr Sandman?” Patrick whispered.
“And done something to make them forget,” Andy concluded.
“Well, how do we make them remember?” Joe asked trying hard not to look up and give it away that they knew of their presence.
“Well, we know that what's here are Mr Sandman's own nightmares, so however they've done it is the same way he'd do it if he needed to,” Patrick suggested.

All of them nodded, it made sense, but even if they could work out what had happened, how could they reverse it?

“I think that's where I come in,” Mr Crab joined their huddle.
“You remember him?” Pete asked hopefully.
“No but your statements make sense. Donnie has spent a long time in the Dream World, I suggest you ask him.”

Nodding at Mr Crab's idea, Patrick broke from the huddle.

“Donnie, if you were trying to make someone be completely forgotten as if they had never existed, what would you do?”
“I couldn't do that,” he shook his head.
“Wouldn't or couldn't?”
“Neither, but I don't have the power anyway,” he explained wondering what Patrick hoped to prove.
“Does anyone?” Patrick pressed.
“Only the Sandman,” Donnie replied.
“So you do know there's a Mr Sandman?” Patrick frowned.
“Of course I know!” Donnie replied indignantly. “There's always a Sandman, there has to be.”

Patrick sighed; he was getting nowhere.

“What would he do then?”
“Well, he wouldn't do it either! It's immoral!”
“But if he did, just if!”
“He'd have to use a Dream Memory Bottle, it's the only way.”
“What's that?” Patrick frowned.
“When children are very small, they often have dreams that are far too vivid for their age. If left, the memory of the dream would scar them mentally for life. The Sandman would monitor the children's dreams and make sure that they didn't get something that would hurt them. If they do, he uses a Dream Memory Bottle to remove the memory of the dream. After twenty-four hours the dream dies and the bottle can be reused. But it would be impossible with a real person.”
“What about a real person in a dream?” Patrick asked; Dream World possibilities were confusing to say the least.
“Within a dream, then yes, it's possible,” Donnie conceded.
“Okay, what if I were to tell you that, Dr Benzedrine was brought here by five nightmare versions of his brother and that he followed alone. Could they have captured him in one of those bottles?”
“It's plausible,” Donnie agreed reluctantly.
“You mean, I have a brother, but I've forgotten him?” Benzedrine asked miserably.
“It's not your fault,” Pete replied kindly.
“Donnie,” Mr Crab began, “describe the bottle to me. How does it work.”
“Well, it's a small glass bottle with a glass stopper, in order to trap the dream, you label the bottle with the subject matter and take out the stopper. The dream is automatically sucked in.”
“And to let it out, remove the stopper?” Mr Crab asked.
“That's not enough, it's the label that holds it in place, if the label's removed then it can escape.”

While Donnie and Mr Crab spoke, Andy's eyes were drawn upward again, widening as he saw a flurry of movement.

“Lo…”

Andy barely had a fraction of the warning out when from behind a long, spindly arm wrapped around him and a hand clamped firmly over his mouth. Slamming a foot backwards, Andy caught the nightmare on the shin only to remember when the movement was ineffectual that Mr Sandman wore bronze shin-guards. Andy continued to struggle as the remaining three nightmares swooped in on the rest of the group.

Long emaciated fingers reached around each of their necks, gripping them in a firm, almost choking hold. Pushed to their knees, Joe and Pete were held by one nightmare, with Mr Crab and Donnie were in the grip of another.

“How did you remember?” the one with the bottle hissed at Patrick. “Wait! Do we have two of you?”

Looking from his right hand to his left and laughing loudly, the nightmare squeezed harder with his grip around their necks making them wince in pain. Clawing ineffectually at the fingers, both Patrick and Dr Benzedrine's faces were reddening as they struggled to breathe.

“And there was I thinking that I only get to kill one of you!” the nightmare cackled.