Dreaming in Sonny-Colour

Timeline: works as a sequel to my story, "Razzle Berry: Sunshine and Drowning." Don't worry, you don't have to read that to get this. But you're welcome to if you feel like it.

Summary: Chad blames that weird 'fake' date with Sonny for his recent onslaught of troubling dreams. Either that or he's been up late watching one too many reruns of So Random.

I

It was all her fault. He realized that now.

Not so much as one dreamless night in over a week. And we're not talking normal dreams. Very specific, Sonny-induced hallucinations.

You think he's exaggerating? Well if it had been you the first night being attacked by a dark cloud of killer honey bees, you might feel differently.

......

Dream One: sweet & sour like twisting candy canes

You're laying in a field of daisies. White. Orange. Yellow daisies.

Sit up. Lean in for a smell—sweet, but pungent, like hard candy and wilting grass.

Bzzzz. Bzzzzzz. A bee—small and fat—lands on the petals beneath your nose. You swat him away.

He comes back. Bzzzzt. Bzzzt. Angry now.

Shoo! Smack. Gah, so annoying.

Close your eyes, inhaling again.

A rumbling BBBUUHHZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Lash lids lift. O h n o!

A thousand tiny bumble bees (killer bees? Eep!) become a dark buzzing cloud, approaching FAST. Chasing, really.

You take off, running through the field, daisies crushed under toe.

Seek refuge in a tree. Climb, climb. Stuck. They've got you right where they want you.

Feel the little furry bee hands (who knew bees hand hands? o_0) latch onto your clothes. Shiver. They're dragging you somewhere. Should you close your eyes? They're taking you—to the bee hive? You don't think you'll fit. You're wrong.

Sucked in, like an upside down wormhole.

-Flash-

Bump.

Ow.

Where are you?

Faint Bzzzzzzzzing sound everywhere. Caramel colored walls covered in sticky-sticky residue. You're in the hive? Wow. Who knew.

Breathe in, smells like cookies. Yum.

There's a figure sitting on a honeycomb throne (yes, a throne). She's sits up straight, crossing her long legs. She's staring you down, one eyebrow lifting curiously.

You approach cautiously. "Sonny?"

She narrows her eyes at you and when she talks her voice echoes out, a trace of the bzzzing sound curling around the ends of her words. "It's your majesty to you. Come closer, peasant."

You blink and smile, despite yourself. Are you the only one who thinks this is hilarious? Apparently so, from the look she's giving you upon seeing your smirk. Which, of course, only makes it widen into a grin.

She drums her glossy black fingernails on the armrest, waiting not too patiently for you to comply with her order. You obey, though still with a smirk, your shoes sticking to the stairs as you climbs them to come closer to her.

She reaches over to a table along the dais, pulling out a pair of glasses and a scroll. She puts the lenses on, her dark eyes becoming even bigger from the distortion in the glass. You watch the dried sugar peel off as she unfurls the scroll and reads to herself. She looks up from it and gives you another once-over.

"You've been charged with trespassing and the destruction of federal insectoid property," she says, her voice still making that same echoing sound. She says it with a completely straight face too, which astounds you.

"You're kidding right?"

"Hardly."

She was even more beautiful than usual somehow. She always has that sparkle that annoys you, but framed by that weird honeycomb patterned throne, she looks almost regal.

"Look", you say, getting frustrated now. "If this is some elaborate So Random prank, I'm done with it. Tell Pico and Gravy they can come out from behind the corner and stop playing that incessant bee noise."

She takes her glasses off with one hand, the bug-eyes returning to a more human shape. "You're obviously delusional, peasant. Do you plead guilty to destroying the flower beds—the very essence of our society?"

You're laughing outright now. It's just too weird. Sonny as Queen Bee lecturing you for stepping on a plant?

You scoff, even though the look she sends over makes you weary.

"You don't deny the charges then?" She curves her index finger at you, motioning you silently to come and get it. You didn't notice before that her black nails are pointed at the tips, like sharp little thorns. "We'll just have to decide on punishment."

You feel yourself being pulled to her by some invisible force, like a mouse trapped on a treadmill. Soon, you're hovering her, one hand on her throne.

She pulls you by the tie you didn't know you were wearing and before you can blink encases your lips in hers. –gasp- She tastes like honeysuckle off the vine. As in, literally. You can lick the residue of your lips. Or hers. You go in for more—and get it—leaving reason somewhere in the other room. You think you're in candy-land-heaven, nibbling on her honey-laced bottom lip when you feel the thorns tearing into the skin of your back.

You scream out in pain and shock!

AHHHHHHHHHHH

And find yourself lying flat on your dressing room floor.

….

"What?! Where am I?"

Crazy dreams are not a normal occurrence in the life of Chad Dylan Cooper. As he picks himself up off the floor, smoothing out the carpet lines on his face, he realizes that since Sonny Monroe entered the picture—his life has been anything but normal.

Note: Sorry for the insanely long hiatus, by the way. Life has been crazy for me lately—in mostly good ways. I'll try and update my profile with the goings-on so as not to bore you here. I'm so behind on my reading and writing &that makes me quite sad. I love this little fandom. Forgive me?

This story is way out there, I know. And not particularly good. But hopefully it's still fun to read. I figure dreams are going to be less coherent than the waking world—which is why the format and sentences are so wacky. Tell me if you're too confused.

Anyone interested in seeing more Chad's Sonny-induced dreams?