A/N: This is much shorter than the other three, and Freddie doesn't exactly have a starring role. But it's still technically Seddie, and so I thought it belonged here anyway. I wrote this a while ago, but am just now posting it. I've been in a 'Supernatural' coma for the last few weeks, pretty much watching every episode I could get my hands on. Damn, I love that show... So, yeah. I was putzin' around in my documents folder after writing some fic for that, and that's when I saw this and was like: 'Wai hallo thar! I'mma put you on the interwebs'.
...uhm. Enjoy?
Summary: Sam has very strange dreams. Strange, but not necessarily bad.
Dreaming Things
Sam wakes up from a really weird dream, all sweaty and confused. The bright red numbers on the clock sitting next to her on the nightstand tells her it's 3:58AM, but even when she rolls back over and closes her eyes, she can't get back to sleep. Images swim through her head and blend together. She turns again until her blankets tangle around her legs, trapping her in her own warmth. Letting out a frustrated grunt, she kicks them off of her violently, shivers as the cold of her room fully hits her.
The window is open just a crack, but she's afraid that if she gets up she'll start thinking different thoughts and forget what her brain told her while she was sleeping. So instead, she closes her eyes and concentrates on the feeling still pulling at the back of her mind.
Her mind slowly but surely categorizes the events of the dream, putting them into place chronologically in the way that only dreams can make sense. Backward and forward, sideways and in between; things soon become clear.
In the dream she had been sitting and facing Freddie. There were colorful banners everywhere, fading into the background along with a cheering but blurry crowd. There were plates and plates of plain, warm donuts set in front of them, stacked high. The smell was nearly debilitating in the best possible way, and Freddie was smirking at her. They were both waiting for something, but she didn't know what.
She looked to her right, and the fattest priest in the world was sitting there in a throne comprised mainly of bleached turkey bones covered in tin foil. He smiled at her jovially, and she had briefly wondered how the chair could hold him up. Then the bell sounded. Before she had time to even start to think, she and Freddie were sitting in a quiet field full of white daisies, stuffing their mouths with donut after donut until someone called 'time!'
Sam opens her eyes, and she is not sure whether she should laugh or cry. She considers it all for more than a few minutes, remembering the smell of the pastries, the feel of the flowers and grass against her bare feet. The smile on Freddie's face, and the laugh she let slip in between bites.
She gets up, closes the window, and gets back into bed. She lifts the blanket like a tent above her head, runs her hands against the fabric in front of her face, and sees them like shadows that play against the faint moonlight reflecting through her window and off the walls of her room. Decides she shouldn't think so much, and smiles.