Summary: What would have happened if Sam had really fallen of the window-washers platform in iQuit iCarly? What kind of thoughts would arise, or feelings be stirred, or hearts be broken? Read to find out…
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A/N: Hello fanfictioners. I guess I've been doing this whole writing thing for a while now on this here website, but for some reason my other story I'm currently working on, 'Ghosts, Goblins, and…Princesses?' is postponed for a while. I might just take it down and repost it next Halloween because on my last chapter, which was also the longest, I sadly only got 3 reviews. But whatever, I was watching iquit icarly and this came to me J enjoy!
Disclaimer: (do I really have to do this?) I don't own icarly.
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Several screams pierced that dark moment…but one stood out. It was a singular roar of animalistic pain that cut to the very heart of a person, chilling them to the bone. A dark-haired man desperately reached a hand out as he watched the light of his life slipping, falling down. Down towards the rush of cars. Down towards hard cement. Down towards death.
And then her own blood-curdling scream reached them through the night. It seemed to have been alright, Sam had just pulled Carly up and they were safe…but Freddie very well knew that safety was fleeting. A single moment or mistake can rob one of life. Sam should have been fine, she should have been in his arms in the next second. She should have been breathing. But instead, she was falling backwards down into darkness. Her eyes, those beautiful icy eyes, were staring into his with such fear as her screaming quieted, as she accepted her fate. He yelled again, too scared to form any other word but her name.
"SAAAAM!" he yelled, not surprised if he'd woken up the entire city of Seattle. He didn't think, all he did was run faster than ever before to the staircase, practically jumping each one until he reached the bottom. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there, but he had. He ran outside, past the screams of the insane doorman, out to what could possibly be the bloodiest, traumatic scene of his life.
Blonde curls hung upside down from the limp young woman. Freddie ran around until he realized three things at once: first, Sam wasn't dead. Second, her foot had somehow gotten caught up in the rope and it had jerked her away from certain death about several feet away from the concrete below. And Third, Sam was unconscious. He ripped out his pocketknife and slashed through the rope above her ankle, already wrapping an arm around her.
Sam lay in his arms then, and he could breathe again. He would've smiled, would've laughed, would've praised God that she had escaped…but then he saw the red dripping from her hair. The wet red that ran dark in the night. He sat with her in his lap and gently felt the back of her head, damp with blood. From a spot on the building, he figured out she'd somehow slammed her head into the brick wall.
"Sam? SAM?" he asked frantically, feeling for a pulse…there it was, light as a feather in the breeze, nearly undetectable. Freddie didn't realize he was crying until he saw the wet drop on Sam's cheek, he held her close to his chest, depending on the others who had finally reached him. Depending on them to call the ambulance that would take her away.
Sirens wailed, lights flashed, and Freddie was aware of nothing but her until she was literally ripped from his arms by men in uniform. As soon as she was strapped to the board, looking so small and broken, he jumped into the back of the ambulance with her. The men didn't question this, it was clear to them that somehow he was connected, he was in love, he would not be denied seeing her and helping her.
Days passed without her waking up. Freddie waited and waited by her bedside, passing out with his head on her bed, their hands entertwined. But still she didn't stir. Her head was heavily wrapped, her ankle as well. But she would not wake from this never-ending coma. Carly stayed too, she was sleeping on the couch. But Freddie refused to leave her side. Carly would leave to go home, eat, shower, go on with her life. But Freddie didn't even think about it.
The doctors said they didn't expect her to wake up, that she was expected to die. No one can survive a fall like that, or a head-slam like she had. They told him this over and over. But he never listened. He explained to them, "No you don't understand. She's a warrior. She's Sam Puckett, she can't die, she doesn't lose. The only one she loses to is me. Sam's a survivor, she can't, she WON'T DIE!" he insisted over and over. Her own mother only came once, but she preferred to stay home, dead to the world buried deep in her bottle.
"Sam…" Freddie whispered as he squeezed her small hand. "Sam, please don't leave. You're not allowed to leave. I'm too stubborn to let you, and you're too stubborn to die. We belong together. Don't die." He whispered. He was about to give up when all of a sudden, the beeping increased and a pressure squeezed his hand right back.
"Don't tell me what to do, Freddie. Wait…Freddie?" Sam whispered, her voice raspy, her eyes blinking quickly.
"Sam!" he said, jumping up and grinning down at the confused girl. He kissed her full on the lips in his excitement.
"W-what? Why'd you just…? I thought we weren't going out?" Sam said, more confused than ever.
"We weren't but…do you remember what happened?" Freddie asked, concern filling his expression.
"Aw, Freddie, you're just like your mom. Such a worry-wart." Sam said sarcastically, her hand reaching up to touch his face. "Yeah I remember. I fell…You screamed. You cried too." She said, teasing him.
"You're the only one who can make me you know?" Freddie confessed. She smiled at this.
"Were you scared?" Sam asked once more.
"…Hell yes."
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A/N: So, what'dya think? Please review, if I don't get tons I get all sad and depressive and end up postponing my writing for months :P anyways, this one-shot is done J