Sandy wasn't like the others.
Sure, he hadn't been great to Jack, but he'd tried significantly more than his friends. He'd attempted to sign to Jack before, but the boy didn't understand. Much like Tooth, he would achcknowledge the boy in the corridors, but he always did so with vigour and joy. Whilst tooth would nod and smile, Sandy would bounce and wave, always bringing a grin to Jack's face.
Once, when the boy seemed especially stressed, he had slipped a book on meditation in his backpack. In turn, he'd found a book on snowflake patterns tucked safely inside his coat pocket. It was small things like this that let each other know that whilst they weren't quite friends, they were more than just acquaintances.
But Sandly had also failed the boy.
Sandy had driven away Pitch.
Sure, Pitch was a stuck-up bully, but he had also been Jack's only friend. Their friendship began when they were children and led right up to the end of year 7. Sandy liked Jack; he was vibrant and joyful, but surely, he had thought, he would be better off with better friends. Anyone but Kozmotis Pitchiner.
For if there were anyone in the world who despised the nightmare of a boy, it was Sanderson Mansnoozie. Whenever they were around one another, sandy lost his zen. All the books on meditation and spiritual enlightenment flew straight out the window and he found himself burning with rage. Pitch was a bully. Sandy was a friend.
Only, could he really describe himself as a friend after what he had done? After Pitch was out of the picture he didn't offer Jack anyone in his place, but continued as normal as if nothing had happened. Jack was left entirely on his own.
Throughout the entirety of year 7, Sandy had been dreaming different ways to save Jack from Pitch's so-called friendship. Eventually he figured there was only one way. He approached Pitch.
"What do you want, Snoozie?" Pitch had sighed, as if bored.
'Stay away from Jack' Sandy had signed, knowing that his rival understood.
Pitch's bored stare morphed into a cold glower.
"What?" He hissed, "You wish me to separate from my only friend in this hellhole. You would be so cruel?"
Sandy nodded and pitch let out a harsh cackle.
"I don't think so, Mansnoozie." He snarled, "Jack needs me just as much as I need him."
Sandy disagreed. How could someone as happy as Jack need such a negative impact on his life? Besides, Pitch had a bad influence on his friends. His cousin, Night Light, was evidence of that. He too had been friends with Pitch, although he didn't believe he'd ever been acquainted with Jack. Pitch had led him on a downwards spiral of vandilism and trouble, until the poor kid had broken down and had begged his parents to move away. Sandy never forgave Pitch.
'You'll ruin him,' signed sandy, 'Just like Night.'
Pitch recoiled backwards, "You dare—"
'Let him go.'
He was being harsh using Pitches fears against him. Sandy knew how much Night's breakdown had effected him; knew how the nightmare boy still felt guilt from his actions, but he didn't care. He would save Jack, even if it meant hurting Pitch.
Little did he know that his actions would cause them more pain than if he'd left them alone.
The next day, Kozmotis Pitchiner stopped speaking to Jackson Overland, and both boys were left isolated from their only source of friendship. Sandy ate his lunch with a dreamy smile upon his face. It would be for the best.
Looking back at this, the young dreamer wanted to bash his head against a wall. How could he have thought this better? He had intervened in something that was none of his business and hurt not one, but two other children. It was going on five years since his interference and the guilt was burying him alive. If he didn't apologise now, he might never get the chance to.
"Only family are allowed to visit the patients."
The nurses tired, mechanical voice pulled him from his daydreams.
'I'm his cousin,' Sandy signed.
The nurse seemed struck for what to do.
"I'm sorry," she explained, looking nervously over her shoulders, "I don't know...I can't understand..."
Sandy widened his eyes, the picture of innocence, and signed something far less polite. The nurse seemed a little guilty as she stared at him.
Finally getting a hold of herself, she queried, "Are you family?"
Sandy nodded his lie.
Ten minutes and several white lies later, he found himself inside Jack's room and staring at the sleeping (half-dead?) boy. The beeping of the heart moniter was steady, almost lulling Sandy into a snooze. That wasn't hard, most things did.
He didn't know what he'd expected. Maybe for Jack to be awake, grinning from ear to ear as he entered. Or maybe for him to look a little more alive. He had anticipated the heart moniter, but not the catheter. Or the IVs. Or the complicated implements to help him breath. God, the poor boy couldn't even breathe by himself. Jack wasn't human, he was a machine. Without a battery he would be as dead as he looked. Sandy shivered.
'I'm sorry,' he signed, rather pathetically.
Jack couldn't even see his apology. It hit Sandy how selfish this all was. Why apologize if he was the only one to hear it? And in the end words didn't speak, Sandy knew that better than any. It was actions that told the tale.
He put his hand on Jack's, fleetingly. Tucked up the blankets underneath his chin. Fluffed the pillows. Moved the tattered blue teddy bear so it was under Jack's arm. Tapped out his favourite song onto the boy's shin. And then he sat until he could sit no longer.
Jack's family would be here soon and he would be in a whole load of trouble. With a sorrowful sigh, Sandy stood to leave. Jack did not wake up at their parting, nor did he say goodbye.
Two days later, Jack's sister was the first to notice the golden dreamcatcher that lay hidden underneath the boys pillow.