Chapter Text
It's not what it seems in the land of dreams
Don't worry your head just go to sleep
Sandman was out doing his job; helping people who couldn’t sleep and giving dreams. Most people and Suitehearts in Hollywood Hills found it funny that he was the one to put people to sleep when he couldn’t even sleep himself. Sometimes it irritated Sandman that while everyone was in their fantasies, he sent them he was stuck in the reality of Hollywood Hills.
He appeared in the shadows of the next room that held yet another restless person wishing for sleep to overcome them. Slowly, he brought his fist up to his everlasting, permanent painted smile. As he unfolded his hand, he blew into it which caused a mixture of gold and silver glitter to fall around his next victim. Sandman remained hiding till the individual drifted off into a slumber. He let out a heavy sigh as he slid down the wall to take a minor break from his responsibilities.
Lately his head had been throbbing from a headache that refused to vanish. The irritability had not hit him yet. Once his temper became ill-natured was when Dr. Benzedrine would finally medicate Sandman, encouraging him to rest. This was because when Sandman’s mood became that way was when the nightmares would be distributed instead of the usual magical dreams. It was a constant cycle. He never wanted this job. How humiliating; an insomniac dreamweaver.
It doesn't matter how you feel
Life is just a Ferris wheel
It's always up and down
Don't make a sound
Once he ended the night he disappeared in a mist of black smoke from the final room and retreated to the place he shared with the brilliant Doctor Benzedrine. As Sandman made his way down the long hall to his room, he passed Benzedrine’s lab and saw his light was still on through the bottom of the door.
Benzedrine was hard at work in his laboratory, writing equations and scribbles on his board. To him it made sense while to others it probably looked like insanity. Suddenly a knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts which caused him to let out a groan and mumble an invitation to the intruder. The door opened and revealed a man wearing all black with makeup that made him look like he was always smiling; that was Benzedrine’s fault. Sandman raised his gloved hand to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness after having been working in the darkness for so long. His boots made a clicking noise as he walked over to a chair while his cape dragged across the floor behind him.
Once he sat down Dr. Benzedrine came over to relocate an arrangement of test tubes so Sandman could put his feet up and lean back. He blinked and rubbed his eyes a few times letting his sight adjust to the new atmosphere.
“How was your night?” The golden looking doctor asked, making small talk as he retreated to his chalkboard again. Sandman just shrugged and sighed, “I feel that. Mr. Moth has been very active tonight”
He observed as the doctor departed to another table to mix some liquids into beakers then backtracked to his chalkboard once more. Benzedrine had a restless mind that was always coming up with ideas which caused the idea of slumber to rarely cross his thoughts. In some selfish way Sandman enjoyed that Benzedrine barely requested assistance to sleep because it made him not feel so alone. Sure, Benzedrine could ask for help and the dream weaver would do so willingly, however it was like he could not bring himself to inquire about a simple request.
Whether Benzedrine would request for help or not after a few days of endless work, Sandman would send the doctor into a dream state, even if for a couple hours. He remembered when he first became the Sandman and even then, Benzedrine was the same in his stubbornness for Sandman’s help. In the early days he respected his wishes, but soon witnessed what simple mistakes a weary Dr. Benzedrine could make, such as the fixed makeup that lasted on Sandman. The doctor helped maintain happiness throughout The Hills, yet it seemed he struggled with his own. Maybe that was the downfall in the life of a Suiteheart; the thing you help others with you lacked within yourself.
Helping the doctor to sleep now was for his own good. Sandman did not do it out of malice, but more out of concern. However, there were times, just like other Suitehearts did, where he used his powers for the wrong reasons. Sandman let out a huff knowing what he was about to do would probably have consequences but for his own greed he wanted this.
No. He needed this.
It's just the sweet weather and the peacock feathers
In the morning, it will all be better
He watched as the radiant doctor headed to sit at his desk and began writing into a notebook. Quickly, Sandman repeated the process to aid someone to sleep on Benzedrine. Before Benzedrine had given into the hex, he gave his friend a look of confusion for his actions. Within that small window of consciousness before sleep overcame him; the doctor knew there had to be something up since Sandman had helped him to sleep the previous night. Before he could conjure up a thought as to what his friend’s intent was Benzedrine slumped forward and dozed off at his desk.
One of the qualifications for the job of the Sandman was no sleep, but Benzedrine knew how bad his friend was suffering. With all the problems he believed he had caused Sandman he decided the least he could do to help was by making a potion to service his insomniac friend into the slumber he craved. He only offered the liquid in moderation so history would not repeat itself, however Sandman was growing restless for his next dosage and decided he would hurry the process by getting it himself. Swiftly he located the prescription and slowly slipped out of the room making sure not to wake Benzedrine.
After he had entered his bedroom and taken his dose, Sandman had met his gaze in the mirror and took note of how his eyes were completely black and void of any color. The demeanor of his eyes meant his dark side was coming out, maybe that was why he did that to his friend. On the positive side of things his medicine would be taking effect before the nightmare side of him could declare his presence fully and cause more harm. Sandman let out a yawn and collapsed onto the bed with a real smile knowing that he would get sleep after many days without it.
When you wake up the world will come around