Ok, I was looking through my hard drive the other day and found the workings for this idea. After meddling with it this morning, I decided to post it as a thank you to all the good people out there who took an interest in these mini fics. You guys are the best.
Title: Dreams
Summary: Sam has a dream. But what is dream and what is reality?
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It was hard to say how Sam knew he was dreaming. The wet earth under his feet was soft and slightly warm, the smell of rain drifting on the wind around him. Yet Sam knew, without looking around that he was dreaming.
It was not like his normal dreams either. Normally Sam dreamt about ghosts and demons and the deaths of those he loves. Those were the bad nights. Even good nights were not like this.
He was standing, barefoot in a small clearing. Rain was dripping lightly through the trees, making everything damp but not soaked.
Everything was a light brown in colour, completely different from the green forests which he had spent the last half a year making his home. Even the leaves on the trees and the moss on the rocks. Even the giant wolf standing only a few metres away from him, smelling the ground was brown.
Sam watched, fascinated, as the wolf circled, like it was looking for something. It wasn't the type of wolf Sam was use to. A shiny, thick coat of fur over a strong and well fed body. It was an animal in its prime.
From somewhere off to his left, a twig snapped. The wolf glanced towards the sound and Sam felt his own head turning, ignoring the tiny part of his brain which was always on guard. The hunter inside him which was telling him he couldn't have heard that sound. His human ears were not good enough.
Managing to regain control of his neck, Sam turned back to the wolf. It had also turned, this time to gaze at him. Its yellow eyes studied him carefully. Sam was struck by those eyes. The clear intelligence which was so very human shone through. It was something Sam had never seen in an animal.
The wolf was the first to break the gaze, turning its head to the sound and trotting towards the edge of the clearing. Then it stopped and looked back at Sam, waiting for him. Ignoring the hunter in him, Sam took a step towards the creature.
Once certain that Sam was following, the wolf once again turned and headed off through the trees. This was how the odd couple continued through the forest. The wolf running ahead before stopping just within Sams sights and waiting for the hunter to catch up.
Sam had lost track on the time (Is there time in a dream world?) when the wolf climbed up a small rise in the earth and stopped, crouching down. After a few afterthoughts, Sam climbed up next to the wolf, reasoning that since it hadn't attacked him yet, it might not attack him at all.
Movement in the clearing below drew Sams eyes away from the wolf at his side. There were people down there. Three of them were men, dressed in the old style of the native Indians of the reserve. Sam had seen pictures of his grandfather dressed in the exact same style. The others in the clearing were dressed in clothes that Sam could only describe as old fashioned. Two men and a woman, dressed in clothes Sam had never seen outside of a ghost or a crappy tv show.
The two groups were talking, the leader of the latter group looked calm, if a little disappointed. The three natives all looked on edge. Sam wasn't close enough to hear the conversation and was beginning to wonder how close he could get to the two groups without being noticed when the wolf beside him growled. It was a low, warning growl, as if the animal had guessed Sams plan. Sam froze, glancing over at the wolf, which was watching him again.
A flicker in the corner of Sams eyes forced him to once again turn to the clearing. The old fashioned group had disappeared, leaving just the natives, who were glancing around the clearing, almost like they were waiting for someone.
Beside him, the wolf moved. Sam ignored it, believing that the animal was just shaking the rain out of its coat or something. Some normal, dog like behaviour. What he didn't expect was the hand on his shoulder.
Sam spun around, cursing himself for not being aware of his surroundings. A hand reached out and grabbed his arm, effectively holding him in place. Crouching beside him in the dirt where the wolf had been only seconds before, was a man. He was another native, with clear brown eyes and a kind face. A face which Sam immediately recognised.
"Levi Uley" Sam whispered, staring at his late grandfather. The man smiled before standing up, pulling Sam along with him.
Now Sam could look in awe at Levi. The man was a huge presence. He was taller than Sam and a lot stronger. Levis hand was still wrapped around Sams arm, and Sam was sure that if he tried to pull away, he was likely to end up with a broken shoulder long before Levi felt the need to release him. Therefore, Sam was powerless to stop Levi from pulling him down into the clearing, towards the others who were now watching them with interest.
When they reached the group, Levi released Sam, giving him a small push towards another man. Sam stumbled on the slippery ground but managed to keep his balance as the group circled him. The man standing in front of him was taller even the Levi, his presence suggested he was the leader. The leader looked Sam up and down, almost like he was looking for something. Then, he met Sam's eyes and grinned.
Without breaking eye contact, he said something in a language Sam couldn't understand. From behind him, Levi replied with one word. A word the young hunter did understand.
"Sam"
The leader nodded and took a step towards Sam. Sam stood his ground, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. He was surrounded, with no chance of escape.
Suddenly, the leader reached over and placed his hand on Sam's chest. Sam started, but managed not to move as the leader said something to him in the odd language. Then, the leader used his free hand to poke at Sams right shoulder, before pulling his t-shirt sleeve up. The leader studied his shoulder before nodding. Sam glanced over to see what had caught the man's attention and stated. There was a tattoo on his shoulder. A swirl of dark ink, like many of the old native tattoos he had seen on his uncle's friends. Sam knew he didn't have a tattoo like that and faintly wondered how the hell it had gotten there. But his musing was short lived.
The leader released his sleeve and took a step back before pointing at his own shoulder. Sam stared. The man had the exact same tattoo on his shoulder. Quickly, Sam glanced at the men to his left and right. Again, the same tattoo. Sam didn't even need to turn around to know that Levi also had the mark. Instead, he once again faced the leader of the group who was smiling at him. Quickly, the leader pressed his finger against his own shoulder.
"Wolf" he said.
A howl rang through the clearing as the ground started to move. Sam tried to remain standing as the world began to spin and fade into dark. Then, only the howl remained.
Sam opened his eyes and blinked in the light of his room. His neck hurt, and it took a few moments for Sam to realise the cause. He was not lying in his bed as he had first believed but rather, leaning his head against the small desk in the corner of his room. Memories of the day flooded through his brain. It was a Sunday and he had spent most of the morning on the beach with Paul and Jarred, playing a rather violent game of football. Then, he had taken the short walk back to his uncle's home for lunch and decided to read in the afternoon before a night out with his friends.
Sometime during his reading session, he must have fallen asleep, his head resting on the book like a pillow.
Gingerly, Sam sat up and glanced around the room, his eyes falling on the small clock on his bedside table. It was only 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Sam had only been home for an hour. Asleep for less than half an hour. Yawning, Sam stretched and tried to regain feeling in his muscles. He glanced down at his book. Then he stopped. Picking up the book, he stared at it, a cold feeling entering his gut.
The book was an old text, one of the many his uncle owned. Sam had picked it because of its information on the legends of the Quileute Tribe. The very tribe that was part of Sams family.
Sam remembered he had been reading about the spirit of the wolf, the guardian of the tribe, when he had fallen asleep. The hand draw picture was a testament of that, showing men and wolves mingling together. But there was a detail in the picture which Sam hadn't noticed before. The tattoo on the mens shoulders.
Quickly, Sam pushed aside his sleeve, half expecting to see the tattoo on his own shoulder. He breathed a sigh, half of relief and half of disappointment as he uncovered the bare skin.
Someone knocked at his door. Sam jumped before turning to see his uncle standing by the open door, giving him a strange look.
"Sam, are you alright son?" Levi asked.
Sam nodded quickly.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He muttered, once again turning to the book. Levi nodded a little reluctantly and headed back to the kitchen.
Quickly, Sam stood up and retrieved his coat. Pulling it on, he exited the room and headed to the front door.
"I'm going out." He called, knowing his uncle would hear him as he pulled the door closed behind him. Then he turned to the forest and began to run.
From his place in the kitchen, Levi watched Sam disappear into the trees and shook his head. The council had warned him about this, ever since they realised the potential in Sam, but he had hoped that his nephew would have at least a few more months of normality. Shaking his head, Levi turned back to his work, knowing very well that whatever happened, Sam would be strong enough to deal with it.
It wasn't until a few weeks later that Levi learned the truth of his fears. Sam phased for the first time that very night.
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Well, that's another quick story from me. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
