Title: Nightmares and Dreamscapes - Chapter 1/?

Fandom: Lazytown

Pairing: Sportacus/Robbie

Rating: For this exact moment, a low T, but the rating will hit M in later chapters.

Summary: There is no such thing as magic...right? However, when Robbie starts noticing something strange about Sportacus and unusual things start occuring in Lazytown, that belief just might have to be changed.

Author's Notes: Why hello there. Yeah, way back when, I told myself (and others) that I was going to do a longer LT story. This is not that story. Or, well, it is, but this isn't the original. That one changed and shifted and then smashed together with another plot to form this. I only have a vague idea of where I'm going with this, so I have no way to tell how long this is going to be. Hope you enjoy! (Oh, and please be kind and review!)

Robbie looked out of his periscope and scowled. All those little brats were making noises again. And that flipping moron was laughing and smiling and encouraging the kids to make even more noise. How could they stand it? Robbie pushed the periscope away and stomped over to his orange armchair, throwing himself into it.

"I need an idea," he muttered to himself. He shifted some and crossed his arms. "I need a way to run Sportakook out of town." The silence in his home was all encompassing, revealing no answers to him. "But how?" Still, no answers were forthcoming.

For once Robbie Rotten was completely devoid of ideas. Over the months he had come up with extraordinary ideas, fantastical plots, to run that flipping sports idiot out of Lazytown. And now, he had finally run out.

Robbie shifted again and threw out his hands. "Well, I can't just do nothing about him! He can't just stay here!" he shouted at the silence. Without the whirr of machines and his grandiose gestures, Robbie's home was frighteningly quiet and empty. "Fine," he spat, as if it were the silence's fault that he could come up with no new plots.

He made his way back over to the periscope and peeked through it again.

Sportacus laughed as Pixel kicked the soccer ball. It passed Trixie's hands and flew into the net, the children around him laughing and cheering. Stephanie ran forward to hug Pixel, Ziggy following her happily, while Stingy slowly moved forward, muttering, "That was my goal."

Trixie collected the soccer ball and ran to the middle of the courtyard, yelling, "I want to go now!" The children bartered for positions, the occasional laugh worming its way above the rest of the noise. Trixie took the ball with Stingy taking the place of the goalie. At the edge of the courtyard, Sportacus smiled warmly.

Then he glanced away from the group of children, eyes scanning the surrounding bushes and streets. The bushes were the same as always, the streets empty. Sportacus's smile faltered, brows furrowing the tiniest bit. However, when Stephanie separated from the group and joined him, his smile came back in full force.

"Hey Sportacus," Stephanie said, smiling shyly up at him.

"Hello Stephanie." When she just continued to stare up at him, Sportacus asked, "Why are you not playing soccer with the others?" Her smile fell, her eyes going down to the ground. Sportacus frowned at the evasive behavior. "Is something wrong?"

There was a cheer from the rest of the kids that had them both looking over, smiling faintly. When the kids huddled again, Stephanie looked back up to Sportacus, hands twisting around each other. "It's just…Sportacus, you're acting like something's wrong." A moment passed in relative silence and then she frowned. "Is there something wrong?"

Sportacus laughed lightly. "Of course not, Stephanie." His lips quirked up in a smile. "There's nothing wrong."

Stephanie quietly stared at him for another minute. Then, "Would you say something if there was something wrong?" The silence between them changed and became something a little more serious.

Sportacus stayed quiet for a moment, just watching her, evaluating. Then, he dipped his head in a nod. "Yes, I would." His words were little more than a whisper, genuine and truthful.

There were a few more seconds where Stephanie just stared at him again, appraising his honesty. Then she smiled brightly at him and skipped off to play, as if nothing had taken place.

Sportacus watched as she encouraged Ziggy to kick the ball and took a slow breath in. Stephanie was much too observant. She shouldn't have been able to spot that one moment where he allowed his attention to falter from the kids…unless he was getting more obvious. Sportacus's jaw tightened at the thought. The kids really didn't need to be worried about him; they just needed to be kids still.

Plus, he wasn't sure there was anything to be worried about yet. Just because one Robbie Rotten hadn't shown his face in a while, well, that was nothing to be worried about. Especially since his crystal hadn't gone off either. Absentmindedly, he reached up and tapped the crystal with one nail. He had no reason to be worried.

He glanced around again, searching around for the familiar bright blue of Robbie's periscope eyes. There was nothing there. Was it bad that he missed those eyes watching over everything? Sportacus pushed the thought from his mind and ran to join the kids, laughing all the while.

Robbie curled a little further into his chair and ignored the empty costume tubes behind him. They were not mocking, no, they were not. Neither was the still periscope. Nor were the scattered pieces of metal on the chaotic workbench. No. Everything was as it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be sitting here, doing nothing. It wasn't as if he had any plotting to do. Nope. No, he did not.

He needed to get rid of Sportadork. The few times he had glanced out of the periscope, he could see the moron flipping about the little brats, smiling and laughing as if nothing were wrong. Robbie scoffed. He absolutely had to get rid of Sportaflop. There was no other way about it.

He looked over the periscope warily. The town had been annoyingly silent for a few hours. Maybe he needed to remind himself just why he needed to get rid of that man. The periscope only offered him a small slice of the irritation. What he needed to do was go topside and remember just why he lived underground.

Robbie sat up, fingers tapping against the fuzzy armrests. It was a drastic idea, a horrid, terrible idea, but it would do just what he needed. That reminder would surely give him enough of an impetus for some sort of plot to get rid of that man. Yes.

Nearly giddy from the idea, Robbie stood and moved to the ladder that would take him outside. However, when he emerged from the silo, the sky was dark, stars scattered across it. Robbie leaned against the edge of the silo, eyes focused the pale yellow slice of moon. Even from this distance, Robbie could usually hear the laughs and cries of the brats. But now…now, with everyone in bed due to Sportakook's ridiculous bedtime, it was quiet and peaceful. It was…nice. Although he still had no plots with which to run that man out of town, he now remembered why he liked Lazytown.

Robbie took a deep breath in of the crisp, clear night air and then descended back into his home. It was beautiful, yes, but now was a time for plotting…or for sleeping. He rather liked that idea. Plotting…he could plot tomorrow.

The next morning, however, had Robbie nearly cursing. He had been woken up by the silly brats as they screamed and screeched in the courtyard. He snarled at the periscope as it openly mocked him now; a simple look through it had revealed the children playing baseball, but it had lent absolutely no new plots.

He really did not want to go topside and be closer to the noise and activity, but there was the possibility it would spur some new ideas. He glared at the empty costume tubes as if they were at fault, steeled himself, and climbed up the ladder to the outside.

He skulked behind bushes and brick partitions and occasionally peeked over them to catch a glimpse of running, laughing children. While this aided his irritation, it was not helping in his plotting — although he was able to waylay the small blond boy from the active game with a lollipop.

By the time he had passed all the children, he still had seen no sign of Sportaflop. It was rather annoying. Just when he was about to give up and simply sleep the rest of the day away, he peered over another brick partition and saw the man. Sportacus was crouched next to a garden, the flowers still pulled tightly into buds and already wilting.

Robbie watched as Sportacus murmured quietly to the sad looking flowers, drawing his fingers gently over the drooping blooms. And then blooms raised their sad heads, the buds fanning open, the color strengthening in each faded petal. When Sportacus stood, smiling, the previously limp garden was brightly in bloom, each flower a symbol of vividness and joy.

A baseball flew rolled into view, stopping next to Sportacus's feet. Laughter rose along with the sound of pounding feet. The pink child appeared, giggling. Sportacus laughed happily, snatching up the baseball and running off with the children. Robbie watched as they went.

When they were completely gone from view, Robbie stood and stalked over to the flowers. They looked normal enough. Experimentally, he sniffed one. The aroma was delicately sweet, but not overpowering. Robbie eyed them. What exactly did Sportakook do to them? Robbie snatched up one yellow tulip and stomped back home, theories already rolling through his head like ecstatic children.

Back in his lab, Robbie placed the tulip underneath a microscope and studied. Hours later Robbie could only come to one conclusion: Sportacus had done absolutely nothing to the flowers. Although Robbie had seen the drooping garden with his very own eyes, the makeup of the flower told him that this tulip was in its prime and that it should be this beautiful, this fully bloomed. Robbie threw himself back in his chair. His singular observation and all the tests he had done were at odds with each other.

What else could do something like that? Science obviously had no hand in it, unless he was losing his touch and missed something. (Robbie scoffed at the idea, sunk further into his chair, and moved onto the next idea.) He could think of nothing else that could do that...unless it was magic.

Robbie wanted to immediately dismiss that idea, but he had to stop himself and ponder on it. After all, Sportacus did have that crystal. And he had talked of "granting wishes". Maybe there was something more magical behind this.

Sitting up a little straighter in his chair, Robbie thought. There was also how Sportacus was a "hero" and how the man went into sugar comas. Robbie paused. Yes, all the signs did point to something entirely new. But Robbie had no clue what kind of magic was being spun, much less if his conclusion was actually correct or not. How humiliating would that be, to try to frame a complete plan around the one point and be entirely wrong? Just the thought made heat burn in his cheeks.

More observations were necessary before he did anything drastic.