So, this is a little short based on The Shiver Trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater. I might do a few more of these, not sure though. I'm home sick and just decided to write about this series, seeing as I just finished it over the weekend. It was stuck in my head, the relationship between Sam and Beck - I just think their father-son-ness is just so adorable! Especially that little moment in Forever (which I will not say just in case anyone hasn't read the books yet).

This probably took me about 20 minutes - and it's not my best work. Honestly, I didn't really try on this at all. I just needed to write something.

Thanks for reading

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Sam or Beck or Ulrik or Paul.

Sam and Beck: Memories


I was slowly becoming conscious. Still on the edge of sleep, however, I clenched my eyes tight against the light trying to penetrate my eyelids and turned my head to the side. Not that it did much good.

"Sammy, wake up." A warm hand tapped my shoulder, gently rocking me back and forth.

I sighed. "What do you want, Beck." Opening my eyes into slits, I saw that Beck was sitting on the side of my bed. He was wearing the orange t-shirt that he usually goes to bed in and he smelled like toothpaste.

"C'mon, get up. I want you to see something." His voice was too loud for – what? I looked at my alarm clock on the side table - 6:32AM.

"Why," I whined, already closing my eyes again and pulling the covers back up from where they had slid during the night. Just as I was about to curl up, Beck pulled the blanket away.

"You can sleep later," he said, grabbing my arm and yanking me into a sitting position. Dizziness swam across my vision and I groaned as the lightheadedness made me grab my head.

"Sorry," Beck said, apologizing for sitting me up too fast.

"Okay, I'm up," I grumbled. I got to my feet and stretched, my arms reaching as far out as they could.

We walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Ulrik and Paul were there also, already sitting at the table. Considering that it was before noon, something must be going on. Paul looked dead, sipping his coffee, while Ulrik looked jittery.

"Okay…" I stood there for a moment, then looked at Beck questioningly. "Why am I up so early?" Usually I slept in 'til 8:30-9:00, which is still early according to most people (in this house at least).

"Asking myself the same question," Paul mumbled into his mug.

"Well," Beck started, "I thought you would enjoy waking up early so we could celebrate your 16th birthday."

"But my birthday isn't 'til tomorrow."

"Exactly." Beck crossed his arms and smiled.

"Um…" It was too early to really think straight.

"Beck, for god knows what reason, thought it would be more of a surprise to celebrate today." Ulrik growled, feigning anger. Or maybe he was just grumpy like Paul.

"Oh." I smiled slightly to Beck and he grasped my shoulder. "But why did we have to get up now?"

"Because it gives you time to figure out what you want to do all day. We can go anywhere, do anything. It's up to you."

Paul scratched at his cheek, probably feeling the stubble that was clearly there. "Sam, I swear, if you say anything along the lines of museum, I will hurt you."

The last time Beck and I dragged him and Ulrik to a museum, it was filled with nothing but screaming second graders touching things they shouldn't.

"Nah…how about we just…I dunno. See a movie or something?" There really wasn't much stuff to do in a place like Mercy Falls, which was basically in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh, c'mon now Sam. You can think of something better than that," Beck said, backed by the incredulous "you-gotta-be-kidding-me-this-is-why-I'm-up-right-now?" stare of Paul.

I thought for a moment, the heat of Beck's hand still on my bare shoulder. Then it dawned on me. "Can we go to Duluth?" I asked. Beck's hand tensed.

They all looked at me, uncertain. I knew why, though. But that's not the reason I want to go.

"There's this candy store there that I'm sure you guys will love."

Beck's hand relaxed. "If that's where you want to go." He smiled, relieved that I didn't ask to go see my parents. Subconsciously, I started rubbing my scars with my left hand.

"It is," I stated, genuinely excited.

"Alright then – go put on a shirt, and we'll go when you're ready."

It was almost 5 when we got back to the house. Each of us had a bag full of chocolate and candy and, you could say, on a sugar high.

I went upstairs, set my bag on a chair, and plopped onto my bed. Sugar highs apparently didn't last long. I was exhausted, despite it only being a few hours past noon. It was probably the drive.

I couldn't remember a time when we had all gone out and did something fun. Chinese Day didn't count because Beck was never there. This was definitely going to be one of my good, paper crane-worthy memories.

"Hey Sam?" Beck called softly into my room.

I sat up and he took that as an okay to come in. "Hey."

"I got you something," he held out a hand closed around the wax handles of a plum purple 99₡ gift bag, probably from the gas station. "It's not candy, don't worry."

I couldn't help but smile as I stood up. "I thought today was my present?"

"It was, but so is this," he said, almost seeming amused by my question. I held out my hand and he passed me the bag. Without delay, I peeked inside and took out its contents. It was a dream catcher with an intricately woven web laced with feathers and beads. It reminded me of the Native Americans in the history book Beck made me read out of. It was beautiful.

"Did you make this?" I asked, fingering the wooden frame and looking closely at the 'GB' carved in tiny letters. 'Geoffrey Beck.'


"Wow," I breathed, "this is amazing." I took my eyes away from the catcher and met eyes with Beck. "How long did this take you?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes good-heartedly. "That doesn't matter. What does matter is this trinket is supposedly supposed to catch all of your bad dreams and leave nothing but good ones."

I smiled even wider. Ever since the day my parents had tried to kill me, dreams weren't always my friend. Even though I know it was just superstition, I was touched by the gift. Especially knowing he made it himself. I never took Beck to be into the whole arts and crafts deal.

"Thanks, Beck." I stepped forward and hugged him. I felt like a little child again, hugging my father. It felt nice. He hugged me back and we stayed like that for a few moments. When we broke apart and Beck left the room, I picked up the dream catcher from where I had placed it on my bed and looked for a place to put it. I ended up hanging it on the right post of my headboard; the perfect place to catch dreams.

It's weird. Now that I have it up, my room never seemed complete without it.