A/N: Little seddie one-shot I just wrote. It's not edited, so I apologize for any mistakes, but oh well. The end can be interpreted however you want.
And I will update iSee A Ghost next.
I need you Freddie.
She sat on the floor of her bedroom, a half-empty beer bottle in her hand, sloshing alcohol all over the shabby grey carpet. Her eyes drifted from the other bottles that lay, now empty, by the wall; to the pictures scattered across the floor; to her cell phone, which was lying in the corner, flickering on and off in the dim lamplight; to the digital clock on the wall, which read: 01.16.
She picked up one of the pictures and stared blankly at the faces smiling back at her. She was in the middle, each of her arms thrown carelessly around the shoulders of her old best friends, Carly and Freddie. His arm was wrapped protectively around her waist, and even in the blackness of her apartment, she could still remember how it felt to be held like that by him. To kiss him, to hear him say that he…
How long had it been since she'd since him?
Three years, wasn't it? Three years since the fight that tore them apart.
Yet here she was, now only inches from the phone, seconds from calling him in her drunken state of mind, from finally breaking.
Her eyes finally rested on the mirror, and she was met with unfamiliar dusty blue eyes set in a pale face framed my messy blonde hair. She wasn't the Sam he'd known two years ago, that was for sure, and that scared her. All those years apart had changed her, both toughened her up and weakened her completely.
She had promised, hadn't she, that she wouldn't call him?
She couldn't remember anymore. She couldn't even remember why he was gone. She just knew that she needed him more than she ever had before, and that the phone was now it her hand. It would only take a second to dial his number.
Shaking, Sam found his number in her contacts list. Just seeing his name, blinking at her in the dark, brought back a flood of memories.
A garden in June, flowers everywhere that he had planted, of course. Her input had simply been the giant stone pig in the middle, that Freddie had hated, but Sam had insisted was necessary.
It had been a year now, since they'd moved in together, and although she'd had her reservations to begin with, she had found she enjoyed it.
It was here that he had decided to do it. 'Samantha Puckett, will you marry me?'
She'd been shocked, but hidden it well. 'I'll think about it.'
'Sam!'
She laughed at this, then wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her lips to his lightly, before giving him a rare smile that only he had ever seen. That had been her answer, no words needed, and he knew it.
The engagement ring was in a drawer in her bedside table, buried under a layer of dust. She probably should have just thrown it away, tossed it in the dumpster or taken it to a pawn shop, but it was all she had left of him, the only thing keeping her from letting go. She wanted to let go, but she wanted to hold on more. Maybe if she held on for long enough, maybe one day it would all come back.
She was still holding her cell phone, a heavy weight in her right hand. If she did call, what would she say? Would she even be able to talk?
Her judgement was clouded by the alcohol as she began to dial.
'How many kids do you want?'
They were lying in the hammock in the garden, side by side, looking up at the stars. She laughed and slapped him playfully, grinning at his nubbishness.
'I think I'd like two. A boy and a girl.'
'You're such a nub,' she told him, but secretly it made her feel slightly fuzzy that he thought about those kind of things, that he wanted children with her. Her engagement ring glittered on her finger, like a star of its own.
'What about you?'
She thought for a moment, realising that he really was being serious. 'I dunno. I've never really thought about it.'
'You should.'
'Maybe one day.'
She laughed bitterly. 'Maybe one day.' Oh, if only he knew.
She had thought about it. Since that night, she'd thought about it a lot. She could almost imagine it now, almost taste the life she'd never had and always wanted. The life she'd lost.
She had dreamed of being a mother – she already had a good-ish job and nice enough house. Freddie, being Freddie, had always pushed her to her limits, which she hated for the most part but slowly learnt to appreciate.
Now she was right back at square one.
Living in a run down neighbourhood, in a tiny, cramped little flat, jobless and wasted. Just like her mother. The one thing she swore she'd never be.
Without the one thing she needed.
He was late. He was late again, and she'd made dinner for him and everything. The one time in her life Samantha Puckett had decided to make an effort with something, and he didn't even make the effort himself to be there to appreciate it.
She finally heard him coming in three hours late. She got up with the click of the door and stumbled out into the hallway to meet him. He ran his hand through his hair and looked at her apologetically.
'Sam, I –'
'What? You got caught up at work? You've been getting "caught up at work" every single fucking day, and I'm supposed to just be ok with that?'
'Yes! Do you think this is fun for me, having to work my butt off every day just so I can pay for our stupid wedding!' Freddie realised what he'd said the second he'd said, and she could see him trying to backtrack, but she just shook her head.
'Hey, I've been working too!'
'And it still isn't enough!'
She glared at him. 'What are you saying?'
'Why can't you just accept that we can't have a meat fountain at the wedding, and having a meat themed wedding is just ridiculous.'
'It's my wedding.'
'It's my wedding too.'
'You don't sound so happy about it.'
Freddie sighed. 'I just thought it would be easier. I thought living together and being engaged would just be like it has been for the last five years.'
'Surprised? Maybe we should just call off the stupid wedding.'
He looked as if she had just punched him. Except it was so much worse because she had punched him several times and he had never never looked like that before.
'You want to call off the wedding,' he said slowly.
'Maybe I do!' she yelled, because he was right. She'd thought it would be easier, they both had. But it wasn't like it had been before,
'Five years and you're just going to walk out on this. On us.'
'Maybe I am.'
'Fine,' he said, sounding the opposite. 'That's… I can't believe you. I really thought you'd changed but you're just the same as you always have been.'
'What do you mean?' she stuttered, halfway to the door.
'You're still afraid.'
'No, I'm –'
'You know what Sam, maybe I'll walk out this time. You always have to win, but this time it's my turn.'
'Wait, Freddie!' He turned round at the door. 'Is this – I mean – Are we –?'
He seemed to think for a moment. 'I don't know.'
'What do you –?' She wanted to beg for him to stay, to come back, tell him everything would be ok.
'I love you Sam. But this can't carry on.' He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. 'Call me when you grow up.'
She opened her mouth, 'I love you too,' dying on her lips. He was already by his car, opening the front door.
'Freddie!' she called.
He didn't directly answer. He just said, 'I'll always love you, Sam.'
Her heart broke with those words, wishing she could say the right thing. But she could never say the right thing.
'I'll never call you.'
She dialled his number and pressed the call button.