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They were fighting Pitch, the Nightmares were all around, closing in. They kept up as much as they could, moving their golden whips faster than humanly possible, which made sense, seeing as they weren’t actually human. They were doing pretty well but lose track of Jack and the other guardians.
While wondering about where they were they felt a sharp pain in their chest. They looked down and saw the darkness spreading. It feel unlike anything they had ever experienced before.
It was cold but not in the way that soft snow or a light rain was, it was cold in the way a sudden snow storm locks you inside and knocks out the brightness in your home. They felt their light being stolen from them and trapped inside with as little empathy as a storm has for those trapped within it.
They heard Pitch telling them “don’t fight the fear” and they realized, he was right. No wait, that’s not what they wanted to think. But it was already too late. The Nightmare was enveloping them and they were trapped inside with no way out.
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They were moving towards Jack. Maybe if they could reach him, they could be themself again. Not have this horrid feeling of wrongness spreading throughout their body and vilifying their sense of self until they were completely unrecognizable. They were so close to Jack and so far. They could feel the ice freezing them, numbing them to their core, relieving them from the crushing of the Nightmare Sand ever so slightly.
They stretched their senses as far as they would go away from the black sand and ice, straining to hear what Pitch was doing to their friend. When they finally reached the two of them, they heard Pitch trying to manipulate Jack, telling him they never believed in him and never would. They wanted to scream or shout or at least sign very angrily at Jack and try and get through to him that they believed in Jack, that they cared for him like a friend and saw him as a little brother.
They heard Jack yell for Baby Tooth and they could feel Pitch’s glee through their connection to the black sand. They stayed shock still in the darkness as they realized what was happening. Pitch had Baby Tooth and Jack was trying to get them back.
They knew the very second Jack handed over his staff when they felt a loss of belief and a increase in fear. Jack was afraid, he was afraid of Pitch, and Sandy could feel it through the tiny tendrils of Pitch’s power flowing through them and keeping them tied to this nightmarish state of being.
Jack was afraid and Sandy could feel it because he was a child . He was a child shunned and rejected for 300 years, ignored and isolated from other children and spirits alike. Jack Frost was an immortal child who still believed in the Guardians after everything they did and didn’t do.
How did they deserve this? They knew they didn’t and the Nightmare Sand in them proved that much. If they were that corruptible with a single arrow, how could they parade around as one of the good guys? If they couldn’t even protect one single child who held this undying, immortal belief, what good of a Guardian were they?
How could they claim to be the Guardian of Good Dreams if they left Jack Frost, the first ever immortal child in a constant nightmare for 300 years?
Sandy snapped out of their spiraling when they heard the crack of Jack’s staff breaking and the sound of his back hitting the rock and falling down the ravine. They felt Pitch pulling the Nightmare Sand, and therefore Sandy, away from where he had left Jack laying in the snow. Sandy ached to go to Jack, to envelope him in the warmth of a good dream and the comfort of a friend and a sibling.
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Sandy was fading in and out of existence. They was barely hanging on to consciousness and had no clue what was going on in the outside world. They hoped the other guardians were still okay, even though they knew the others would most likely be very weak at this point.
They could feed the darkness threatening to overtake their vision once and for all. They were about to finally give in and stop fighting. They were tired .
As they were drifting off, they could feel something pulling at their core, their soul . They felt as though they were coming back to themself, grain of sand by grain of sand. They could feel the children again and oh how they missed that feeling. It was nice to be believed in after the void without it.
When they finally blinked back into existence, they could vaguely see all the guardians in battle stances ready to fight Pitch. Sandy’s anger over took them and they quickly lashed out at him with a whip of sand, leaving no time for anyone to process anything, much less themself.
Later after the battle was over, they would tell everyone they were fine and just glad to be back. They knew it was a lie though. They didn’t want to admit to anyone that sometimes when they fell asleep, they dreamed they were being overtaken by the darkness once more and woke up in a panic, their body starting to turn into black sand once more.
No, it was better to let their friends think they didn’t realize what was going on while they had “died”. It was better to let their family think that they just ceased to exist painlessly and miraculously came back, rather than torturing them with the knowledge of what they actually experienced in that grating, horrid, sand.