FicWad

Mr Sandman stood inside the Dream Memory Bottle cursing his own stupidity. He should have known they would have pulled something like this - it was exactly what he should have done to them years ago. As it was, now he was trapped and his own nightmares could terrorise his brother all they wanted without fear of being stopped. Or could he? Could he still affect the world outside of the bottle? As long as he remained trapped inside the bottle, he only had twenty-four hours before he died. He would make those hours count.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered to himself as he pressed his palms up against the glass and concentrated hard.

Tiny sparks crackled from his fingers. He would normally use tricks such as this if he found someone falling too far into a dream state. Dr Benzedrine's power to wake someone was impressive, but it was not limitless and sometimes, he had to prevent the slide into almost coma-like conditions. Sandman would have liked to have taken the credit for someone slipping so deep, but he knew that it was just in the nature of some people to take a dream too far, especially if they were enjoying it. Tiny electrical jolts would bring the person back to a normal dream state. Everyone thought the Sandman's job was all about creating beautiful dreams for people to enjoy - literally a dream job - but Marcus J Sandman knew different. It required long hours of dream monitoring; with so many people to take care of all over Carousel, he frequently even had to slow time down so as to not miss anyone. With hundreds of weavers and spinners in his employ to watch over and take care of too, it was a full time job, all day and all night. He was one of the few people that truly knew the feeling that some nights were longer than others. Sometimes, he was left trying to remember what it felt like to sleep. Like Dr Benzedrine, he didn't sleep, neither of them had since taking their positions. Sometimes he felt slightly envious of a world that closed its eyes each night to enjoy the dreams his team created.

He gasped with effort as the sparks finally made their way through the glass and prickled the body of the lead nightmare. With both his hands full, his fingers wrapped around the necks of Patrick and Benzedrine, the nightmare used his arm to rub at the odd sensation he felt against his skin. As he did so, one end of the label pressed against the bottle, the label that held Mr Sandman prisoner, began to peel back.

Sandman's eyes widened with surprise and joy - there was hope yet! This was beyond expectation. It could only be luck, pure luck. He knew that luck on its own wasn't enough, he would have to work hard, but if successful, he knew he owed a debt of gratitude to Mr Crab.

*

“Now then, what do we have here?” The nightmare with the bottle glanced around. “Two of you all,” he mused before staring menacingly at Pete and adding in a sinister tone, “and one of you.”

“I'm not afraid of you!” Pete glowered in return, still pulling in a mixture of anger and desperation at the fingers around his neck.

“Really?” the lead nightmare replied absently rubbing his arm against the odd prickling sensation inside his coat. “Well, I can tell you that you should be, but, first of all, you can tell me why I shouldn't dispose of you too?”

At the words, Benzedrine allowed a soft whimper to escape his lips. The nightmare had just confirmed what the Normal Worlders had been telling him. He had a brother that he had been forced to forget. No amount of memory searching was helping, it seemed they had been quite thorough, but now, they were threatening the man who he knew looked like his brother. If he couldn't help one, perhaps he could help the other?

“Leave him alone! It's me you want and you've got me!” he shouted.

“No! No!” Sandman shouted unheard within the glass bottle. “Not yet! Don't give in just yet! Give me time to get out!” Glancing to his left, he saw the label half peeled away. “Damn it! Come on!”

In a jumbled mess of fear and frustration, Sandman released all his remaining energy as an electrical charge through his fingertips. With a yelp, the lead nightmare threw Patrick and Dr Benzedrine to the floor and pulled the bottle from inside his coat. As he did, Sandman's eyes widened with astonishment and joy, as the peeled back sticky label caught the inside of the nightmare's pocket and was ripped away. Reaching up, Mr Sandman pushed at the glass stopper in the bottle, only to realise at this late stage that he wasn't tall enough to push it out. His eyes caught those of his own nightmare as, with a sneer, he produced another label.

“No!” Benzedrine screamed emphatically, already charging toward the nightmare and ploughing into his side causing him to drop the bottle.

As the bottle skittered away, Sandman saw his brother viciously sideswiped, falling in a crumpled heap at the nightmare's feet. Finally sliding to a halt, Sandman began kicking furiously at the stopper to free himself. Glancing to his left, he saw the lead nightmare advancing on him.

“Even if you get out of that bottle, you're too weak to fight me, Sandman, I can feel it. You've wasted all your energy just to get free of that bottle. Like it or not, you'll still be my prisoner.

The nightmare holding Andy snatched at Patrick only to miss as Andy kicked at him again.

“Patrick!” Andy cried. “Do something!”

There was only one option open to him - help Mr Sandman get free from the bottle. Scrambling to his feet, Patrick bolted towards the bottle, hoping to reach it first and free the only one that could help them all. But it was as if the nightmare could see in all directions at once. As Patrick drew nearby, he threw out his arm without even turning his head and once more curled his fingers around Patrick's neck, squeezing too hard for the singer to breathe. Sagging in his grip, Patrick couldn't even hear his friends' desperate cries for his safety.

Finally kicking the stopper out of the bottle, Mr Sandman was sucked out of the bottle, screaming in pain and exhausted. Lying breathless and weak on the floor as he tried to gather his strength, Sandman looked up helplessly as the nightmare moved closer, dragging the barely conscious Patrick with him.