A/N: YES! IT IS FINALLY DONE! ... Hey, check it out, more Seddie. I'm not really sure if this is considered as angst, but whatever. So I wrote Seddie again, it mostly revolves around Sam, though. And also, if anything seems confusing to you, or if there are some parts you really don't get, PM me and I'll explain everything. You have no idea how many times I've reread this and changed the ending, and if the entire thing is totally terrible, I apologize in advance. Reviews are loved, flames are childish. :)
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It's city lights and underground rides and pretending.
She stays under the shadows for a little while, a little longer, until all of the gold and glimmer fade away, the laughs and starry and blurry images stuck in her head and the threatening taste of his lips on hers disappear in the blink of an eye. And then, she starts to see straight. And suddenly she doesn't like what she sees.
The quiet scares her mainly because it speaks the truth. So she turns on all of the lights and plays all of her DVDs and re watches the videos until she doesn't feel so alone anymore. But it's all fake, a little piece of nothing built on walls that are about to close in on her as she walks down the road of life.
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Freddie holds Sam's blond hair back as she pukes into the sink.
Maybe it's the terrible and awful taste in her mouth causing her to puke again, maybe it's the feeling of threatening taste of liquor on her pale lips, but for some reason, she feels terrible on the inside and has a weird urge to puke her guts out some more. So, she takes another swig of her drink and Freddie desperately tries to snatch it away from her.
She rolls her eyes and more vomit goes up her throat and she runs to the sink and pukes again, Freddie eyes her nervously as she gets up and wipes her mouth with a towel, his arms still protectively around her waist as she attempts to clean herself up. Sam's throat gets chocked up again and she ends up puking again into the sink, and Freddie once again pulls her hair back so it doesn't come in contact with the vomit.
"No one gives a damn about me," She states wearily, her stomach turning. Freddie shakes his head, keeping the drink away from her and rubbing her shoulder, her eyes closing slowly as she rests her head on her arm, shivering as her pale skin comes in contact with the Seattle wind. "And why are you here?"
"If you haven't noticed, Sam, I give a damn about you, and so do Carly and Spencer." Freddie states, certain bitterness in his voice. Sam shakes her head, muttering something incomprehensible under her breath before dozing off, with Freddie staring at her with glimmering eyes. He rubs her back again, intertwines his fingers with hers and wonders, what happened to you?
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Here's what happened to her: she realized she's just like her mother, craving for that special someone to tell her it's going to be okay even though he knows it won't.
Here's how she handles it: she tries to numb the pain with a few drinks and Freddie's always there to attempt to convince her to stop.
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"I'm..." Sam struggles as they stare at the explosion of rays of sunlight shooting throughout the warm orange sky, the sun just at the brisk of sunset.
"You're what?" Freddie asks, hating how sharp his tone comes off.
"I'm kind of... sorry, about last night. I dozed off anyways, though, so I don't really remember what happened. But I do remember dreaming about meat." Sam says, and Freddie rolls his eyes and chuckles, and she almost smiles, or smirks, out of habit. But then she remembers they're not the same Sam & Freddie they used to be. He stays silent for a moment and the rays of sun bursting throughout the sky are replaced by the moon and a few stars lingering in the night sky.
"... When I was little my mom used to bring me here and make a wish on the stars." Freddie begins, unsure of why he decides to start this topic, but it's better than nothing. He expects Sam to smirk and comment about how stupid it is that he would actually wish on a star, but she's unexpectedly silent for a brief moment before speaking.
"So why'd you bring me here?" Sam asks, almost quietly, her nails rubbing on each other.
"To look at the stars, I guess. Or maybe wish on a star... if you want to," Freddie looks at her this time, straight in the eye to be exact. Sam turns to him, really looking at him. Her eyes are reflected in his and it's like a dying star bursting inside his brown eyes, and it's obvious she's the one who's breaking him, unintentionally because of her selfish ways.
And so, she turns back to the stars, her eyes closing automatically, and wishing for something she wonders if will ever come true. She doesn't start with an "I wish," but however starts with an "I want," instead. Because it's always about her, what she wants. But this time, she wants something that benefits her and him.
(I want to stop.)
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He shows up at her house the next night, looking lost and misguided, like a sad, lost puppy.
"Benson?" Sam asks, no sense of sharpness in her voice at all, just genuine concern. It's his turn to be the victim now, and he doesn't like it. Freddie's eyes meet hers, and he asks, softly with a hint of reluctance in his voice, and begs her with his sad brown eyes. "Can I stay here for the night?"
She doesn't hesitate, she just moves aside and gestures for him to come in. His hair is wet and tangled due to heavy rainfall, and his entire outfit is soaked. His eyes are red, his constant sniffing and shivering makes even her worried, and she comes with hot chocolate. He just sits down, drinking, his eyes far away this time. She presses her lips together, fiddling with her fingers and finally bringing herself to ask, "What's wrong?"
Freddie simply shakes his head, eyes filled with dying and reflecting stars. She's kind of scared now.
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Four months, two weeks, five hours and twenty-five seconds left before time runs out for them.
She's stopped drinking, stopped puking and stopped feeling sorry for herself, but there's nothing left to numb the pain anymore. Sam then takes a look at him, and then decides, for her own selfishness and selfish needs, to use him as something to numb her own pain.
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Sometimes, she'll lie in her bed just to hear her heartbeat in order to make sure she's alive
Sometimes, she'll close her eyes and pretend she isn't, because it's easier to pretend.
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Their time runs out and she takes a stroll under the city lights, and they shine above them and she sticks her hands in her pockets and there's a flash of brown hair and arms wrapped around her and it takes a second to realize how familiar it is until she sees those brown eyes.
Guess who it is...
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She wakes up to blinding sunlight, smeared makeup, and tangled hair. He's lying next to her, fingers intertwined, hands brushing against each other, and she's just blinking and straightening out her vision before kicking off her shoes and smoothening out the clothes she's slept with.
"Morning," Freddie murmurs sleepily, and she looks back, her blond hair bouncing, a soft hint of a smile on her lips. Gosh, she's missed this, missed him.
"Morning," Sam replies, a yawn escaping her lips as her smile reflects in his eyes.
She can't help but wonder if maybe this is the way it's supposed to be, maybe she should stop running, and maybe, just maybe —
As if he could read her mind, he tells her, "Don't think so much."
Maybe she should start listening to him more often.
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Well... that was okay, but it could've been better. Eh, in my next Seddie oneshot I'll make it better, because these two deserve it. It would be awesome if you reviewed, I would like love you, to the max. Later.
