Ride or Die | Sam Fender AU

021

You jolted awake at the feeling of something thrashing erratically beside you. Your heart was racing and your eyes were thick with sleep as they fought to make out the source of the movement in the darkness. You calmed slightly when you realised it was just Sam but your concern quickly replaced it.

"M'sorry," he flinched, his eyes screwed shut. There were beads of sweat that decorated his forehead and his cheeks were flushed a light pink. "Stop. M'sorry, Dad."

"Sam," you called quietly, sitting up in the bed and shaking the man lightly.

"Stop!" he pleaded.

"Sam," you repeated, louder this time. You shook him once more, startling him awake. His eyes snapped open and he quickly sat up, shuffling away from you. You reached out to touch him gently on his shoulder but he flinched away from you. "Sam?"

"I'm fine," he told you shortly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and hurrying over to the other side of the room, putting as much space between you as possible. His body was turned away from you and he was hunched over, using one of the cabinets to lean on.

Cautiously, you slipped out of the bed and approached him like someone would a wild animal, trying your hardest not to provoke him into reacting harshly. "Sam," you whispered to alert him of your presence, pausing to give him a moment before you rested your hand against his back and glided it up to his shoulder. His muscles were tense beneath your touch and he didn't dare move an inch but he didn't react, prompting you to spin him gently.

You could barely make his features out in the darkness but you could sense his conflict — knew there was an inevitable frown etched on his face. You watched him with concern, slowly lifting your hand and laying it against his cheek.

"I'm fine, little lamb," he told you shakily.

"You're not fine," you frowned, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "Come back to bed."

"I'm just gan go get a cuppa, get some work done," he replied. "Divvn't worry about me, yer go back to sleep."

"I'll come with you," you murmured.

"Go to bed, little lamb," he sighed.

"No chance," you told him, slipping your hand into his and pulling him out of his room. "Let's go make that cuppa."

"Yer don't have to," he frowned, following you down the grand staircase to the kitchen. "It's late. You're probably knackered."

"Sam, it's fine," you smiled softly.

Sam's arms curled around your midriff as you grabbed the kettle and filled it, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You flicked it on and grabbed two mugs, dropping a teabag into each and patiently waiting for the water to boil before filling them. Since your relationship started, you had committed Sam's tea preferences to memory. It helped that you took your tea the same.

Wordlessly, you reached up with your free hand to stroke Sam's hair whilst stirring the tea with your other. The house was eerily silent, the only noise that breached it was the steady intervals of the clock ticking. It was almost like time was frozen, the usual hustle and bustle of the house quashed. It wasn't uncomfortable though. Rather the opposite, the two of you appreciating the time with one another in the dead of night.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from Sam to grab the milk from the fridge, pouring a dash into each cup before returning it. You discarded the teabags on the side of the sink with the intention of throwing them in the bin in the morning but you likely wouldn't remember.

"Do you wanna sit in the living room or would yer rather go back to bed?" you asked quietly.

"Bed," he replied, taking his mug from the countertop and leaning around you to plant a soft kiss on your lips. "Thank you, Principessa."