A/N: This is my first foray into the Sandman fandom. Please forgive me any mistakes.
Disclaimer: Sandman and Death belong to Vertigo. No intentional copyright infringement is intended through their use.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
The first time Lindsey saw him, he was at a bench near the pond, watching the ducks flapping, swimming and fighting.
He was all in black. His skin was very white, until she thought he was a ghost from the many stories her papa had told her.
She had been playing with her ball, and it had rolled quickly towards the pond. He had saved it from drowning, the poor ball.
"Thank you," she had said with a bright smile, as any six-year-old girl had been taught to be polite.
His eyes were very black, but they twinkled like stars and looked very kind. And she had started singing, "Twinkle, twinkle, little star," as she went back to her mother. When she looked at the bench again, the man was gone.
That night, she dreamt of pretty flowers in a big meadow, and the sky was filled with sunlight and many colors.
Lindsey saw the man again, only just now, only just behind that tree. Scared that he would walk away, she quickly found a spot with many pretty flowers, and started to pluck them.
Red and yellow and purple and pink.
"Lindsey, don't go too far!"
"Okay, mama!" She held about ten flowers in each small hand, and ran towards the man. Halfway, she stopped.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
The flowers weren't enough, her young mind thought. The man didn't look like he liked flowers alone.
"Mama, make the flowers twinkle?" She rushed to her mother and held the flowers out.
Thinking it was a game, her mother poured water from her bottle onto her palm, and sprinkled the flowers with water.
Now she had pretty flowers.
She ran again, full of energy, to that tree. The man was still there, silent, resting.
He turned to look at her approach.
Lindsey held out the flowers. "For you. Thank you for saving my ball, Mister Star."
He gazed at her for some time before his hands enveloped hers gently, and she let him hold the flowers. His eyes held hers again, and she saw them twinkle.
"Your mother is calling you," he said.
She gave him a toothy grin and waved bye-bye before running off.
That night, Lindsey dreamt of flowers sprinkled with dew, glinting silver under a sky full of merrily-twinkling stars.
Death felt a call from her brother's realm, and had to go there because her role required her to. But what would Dream have in his realm that needed her attention?
"Flowers, little brother?" she grinned as she walked into his castle.
The flowers were still bright, but their life was out.
Dream nodded, then gestured at them. "Perform your duty, sister."
Death brushed her hand gently over the plants, and there was the rushing sound of her wings as they wilted instantly. "And Matthew left them alone?" she grinned again.
"Yes, he did." Dream took the wilted flowers in his hand, and they crumbled to dust. He hesitated, then threw them outwards, where they were borne by the winds of his thoughts to the whole of the Dreaming.
And in the silence of the castle, they saw the air sparkle like stars, and heard the faint echoes of, "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are?" carried to them.