Title: And Sometimes I See You
Note: This is set post Ginger Snaps, but pre-Unleashed.
"Do you have dreams of me?" The cool male voice asked over his shoulder down at the lump on the bed.
"You are my subconscious, shouldn't you know already?" Brigitte replied as she shook, the shivers running coldly down her sweaty back.
"Yeah, but I figured the polite thing to do was ask first." He said again watching her small frame shake. "You are getting worse, Brigitte, you should not have done what you did even if it was to really save your sister."
"How was I to know the monkshood wasn't a proper cure?" Brigitte bit down on the pillow under her head and pulled her eyes shut tight. She could feel the poison coursing through her veins.
A soft and calming hand touched her shoulder blade and she pulled her eyelids closer shut. She did not want to see him. His face, his eyes, his mouth...speaking those words to her. Seeing Sam was not uncommon now, she had seen Ginger often too. Ginger was always there to patronize her, belittle her, give up hope on everything, just as she did when she was alive. But Sam, he came to comfort, to relieve, to help her much as he did as he was alive too. The hand tenderly worked it's way to her elbow where it sat patiently.
"Open you eyes." Sam asked as he stood before her ill-fated body. "Just trust me, alright?"
Letting a final shake go and a quiet sigh, Brigitte let her eyes flutter open. She expected to see red, a bloody red mess of Sam's face. The way she kept seeing him, the same in his death. This Sam was bright, pale, and very humane, Ginger had not torn into his skin, it lay beautifully untouched and flushed with life.
"You are...okay." Brigitte tried to describe what her eyes were showing her, but she could barely look at it. "The whole ghost thing needs to stop. You need to stop."
"Hey, that's up to you." Sam bent down to look her face to face. "Like ya said, it's all part of your subconscious. Personally, I don't get why I'm there, you didn't kill me, your psycho bitch sister did."
Somewhere off Brigitte felt Ginger hear that and was thinking of some not so nice words to spit at Sam. Brigitte smirked at the thought and just averted her eyes away from Sam's face. She wanted him gone, not bothering her. She needed some goddamn peace for herself and these two, very dead people were not helping her psyche. But all she wanted to do was hug Sam and thank God that he was still with her. Ginger was sometimes overbearing and Sam knew when to keep quiet which was good for all her shooting up times.
She felt a quake in her stomach then and an ache in her groin and she felt like gripping hold of him. Running hands over his delicate skin and through his unruly patch of dark hair so foolishly matched with it. It was the wolf part dying to break forward, but Brigitte felt like maybe it was her own wanting too. As if hearing her thoughts, Sam's hand trailed along her face, a cold cloth to her heated skin. It felt good as a remedy but became distraction as it prickled her thoughts more.
"Sam." Her breathe was soft as it blew into his hovering hand.
He pushed his hand down into her hair and caressed her temple gently. Her eyes opened avidly and her arm reached out for him to find the bed. He was next to her in a hot minute, gripping her fragile back and lowering her onto the sheets. He hovered over her , his eyes flickering to her lips as she pulled down on his t-shirt to draw him closer.
"I don't think of you that way." He whispered to her.
"I know you don't." Brigitte answered before touching her lips with his lips.
He planted his arms around her as she pulled him down on her. His tongue rolled along her own and found itself inside her mouth. Her hands were up his shirt, scratching deep cuts into his back which made him hiss between each kiss. His mouth found not only her mouth but her cheek, her chin, her ears, her neck, her breasts, and her stomach. She held back the need to whimper, moan, or cry but instead watched him resurface closer to her face.
"Are you okay?" Sam mumbled looking into her green eyes.
"I want this." She cried out. "I do."
The craving desire inside her pulled his t-shirt over his head and onto the floor quickly. Her hands traced lines on his stomach leaving marks again. Her nails were long and razor sharp just as Ginger's was before she died.
"God, this is so fucked up." Sam watched her mark up his belly and he ran a hand through his hair. He pulled back from her reach and looked back at her. "I don't wanna do something stupid here, Brigitte."
Even though the growl in her rumbled for more contact, she knew what she was doing was wrong. It was the werewolf desire and lust for human everything not the desire to feel Sam, be close to him. She bit her teeth into her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
They fluttered back open and water rained down on her cheek. Sam stood at the end of the bed, his back to her. She was shaking from the immediate effect the monkshood had in her blood stream. Sweat drenched her back and face as she bit down on the pillow's cover.
"Brigitte..." Sam turned to her and she saw the ratted t-shirt drenched in dried out blood stains. Sam's hair stringy and limp, dripping with blood, a huge gash down his right side. His face was hidden in the dark shadows well but she remember from that night how gory a sight he'd been.
"Do you have dreams of me?"
She gave one quick spiteful look at her bloody friend before biting as hard as she could into the pillow.