I don't own iCarly... but I wish I did.
Okay, so I caved. I was really trying to resist writing an iCarly fanfiction after I saw iOMG but then I found out that the next episode wouldn't be until after June. I don't find that fair at all... So, anyway, I wanted to put my own spin on iOMG. Rather than only picking up where the episode left off, I took a new approach. Here's the full summary:
Summary: Sam Puckett and Freddie Benson are friends, there's no denying that. What happened at the school lock in may change that forever but what provoked Sam into kissing Freddie? Yes, Carly and Sam were nudging her on... but maybe it was an event that happened not so long ago. My take on an iOMG fanfiction.
iWon't Make the Same Mistake: Chapter One
An iCarly Fanfiction
"You sir," Sam said poking Brad, "are an excellent assistant." Both Carly and Freddie looked at Sam shocked to hear her give out a compliment.
"And Sam doesn't give out a lot of compliments," Carly pitched in.
"Usually it's insults followed by beatings," Freddie said with a nod.
"Well, I'm excited to be working with you guys," Brad said smiling.
"Hey, can I get the recipe for this tuna salad ball?" Gibby asked interrupting the flow of the conversation. Oh, you have to love Gibby.
"Absolutely," Brad answered.
"Good. I love this."
"Hey, we should probably head back over to my place and some more work done on our project," Freddie suggested to Brad.
"Sure, let me grab my stuff," Brad responded.
"Alright."
"What's your project?" Sam asked.
"We're making an app for the PearPad," Freddie said, sounding excited.
"MoodFace? Right?" Carly asked.
"Uh-huh."
"You just stare at the PearPad's camera for five seconds and it'll tell you what your mood is," Brad said.
"Really?" Carly asked.
"That's so cool," Sam commented.
They were interrupted by another one of Gibby's comments about Brad's amazing tuna salad bowl. That kid really had a way with food.
"Hey, can I work with you guys on your project?" Sam asked. That gained her strange looks from both Carly and Freddie.
"You're asking if you can help us?" Freddie asked incredulously.
"Yeah," she responded simply.
"With a school project?" Freddie asked, still not buying it.
"I think it sounds really interesting."
Freddie reach over and squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Feels like Sam…"
Then Carly sniffed her. "Smells like Sam…"
"Can I help with the project or what?"
"Sure you can help," Freddie decided.
"I'll bring the fudge!" Brad chimed in.
"And I'll bring my mouth!" Sam smiled
The three of them exited the iCarly studio. Freddie didn't know why but as he noticed Sam walking and talking with Brad behind him, a certain memory began to play in his head…
Freddie sighed as he leaned against his locker and checked his watch. He still had five minutes before his next class. Tuesdays weren't his cup of tea and neither Carly nor Sam was in school that day… so, he was bored out of his head. When his phone rang, he was very relieved and quickly picked up his cell phone. He was even happier to find out that it was Carly.
"Hey Carly! How's Yakima?" Freddie questioned as soon as he picked up the phone. Carly giggled a little bit before replying.
"Hello to you too, Freddie. Yakima is,,, okay, I guess," Carly said, sounding as if Yakima wasn't "… okay". "But the smell of my grandfather's house is not the issue at hand…"
"The smell of your grandfather's house?" Freddie questioned, a grin quickly spread across his face. "You didn't say anything about the smell of your grandfather's house."
"Er, exactly," she replied, "but I need you to do me a favor."
"What does your grandfather's house smell like?"
"I need you to do me a favor," Carly repeated, this time sounding serious.
"Okay, okay. What is it?" Freddie asked.
"Can you pick up some soup from the deli across the school and bring it to Sam? She's come down with something."
Freddie paused for a moment wondering if he had heard right. Carly wanted him to go and buy soup for Sam? The Sam that could kill him quicker than if he got shot in the head? Yeah, that Yakima air had contaminated Carly's way of thinking.
"Uh, why would I do that? Sam would sooner kill me than she would open the door for me," Freddie said. Even though his fears could seem cowardly, they were very well justified.
"Sam is sick Freddie, please?" Carly asked
"No way! She'll kill me!"
"Please Freddie," Carly begged.
"Carly, living is something I like to do!" Freddie continued to deny.
"Freddie, please bring Sam some soup. Please? For me?" Carly asked as sweetly as she possibly could.
"Oh no, no, no, no!" Freddie began. "That definitely does not work on me anymore."
"Please for me?" Carly asked again.
"Nope," Freddie said sounding proud, "that really doesn't work on me anymore." He heard Carly sigh loudly.
"Seriously Freddie. Sam doesn't get sick very often, but the last time she got sick, it was really bad. I swear that she almost died. Freddie, she might die if you don't bring her soup and it's going to be all your fault!" Carly yelled sounding like she was on the verge of a mini freak out. Freddie shook his head with a little laugh.
"Sam is not going to die if I don't bring her soup," Freddie reasoned.
"It's Sam that we're talking about! She'll die if she doesn't eat for eight hours straight! Remember that time she passed out in Chemistry because she didn't eat breakfast or anything throughout the day?" Carly kindly reminded him. "Please Freddie, she could be dying!"
"Sam is not dying, Carly!"
"If Sam dies, then it's going to be all your fault!"
"Sam is not going to die! I promise."
"She is going to die!"
"She's not going to die!"
"She is Freddie! Her epitaph is going to say 'Sam Puckett, violent daughter, sister and friend…deprived of soup long before her time!' It'll be all your fault!"
"Okay, okay," Freddie said with a long sigh, "what kind of soup do you want me to get her? I can rule out anything without meat, we all know that Sam loves her protein."
"Not chicken noodle, try Italian Wedding?" Carly suggested. Freddie could practically see her smiling in victory.
"Alright," Freddie smirked.
"And remember, if Sam dies, it's all your fault," Carly said.
"Okay, Carly…"
"Bye Freddie."
"Oh wait!"
"Yeah?"
"What does your grandfather's house smell like?"
Two periods later…
Disdainfully, after his last period, he walked across the street to the deli and bought Sam her soup. After, he followed Carly's instructions to Sam's house. Oddly enough, he had never been there. He had this strange idea that Sam's house would be an old broken down abode. A lawn with dying grass, flowers and trees; maybe a tire strewn across the lawn, too. To his surprise the Puckett residence was another, normal house. It was small but it was a proper and decent looking house.
Freddie went up to the door, rang the doorbell and waited five minutes. When no one came to the door he peered at their driveway, there were no cars there. Maybe Sam's mother took her to the doctor or something. One last time, he rang the door bell and waited. When there was no answer, he turned to leave but just then he heard the door open behind him.
"What the hell are you doing here, Benson?" A soft, quite voice croaked.
Freddie turned around to see Sam looking like, for lack of a better word, shit. Sam was dressed in only a red and white striped tank top and black pajama shorts but was sweating. She was sweating so much that her blond bangs stuck to her forehead and despite this she was trembling. Her eyes were a little red and wet in the corners, her nose was also red and her lips were dry, cracked and bleeding most likely from fever.
"You look horrible, Sam," Freddie commented looking her over. He waited for retaliation but she just waited for him to speak. "Anyway," he said tentatively, "Carly wanted me to bring over some soup, so y'know, here. I bought you ham also, I figured the addition would be appreciated." He handed over the bag containing food and Sam took it.
For a while they just stood there and Freddie was beginning to feel awkward. Sam was never this quiet and the fact that she hadn't insulted him or hit him yet was scary.
"Well, bye," Sam said bluntly, attempting to close the door in Freddie's face. However, Freddie reached out and stopped her.
"Sam, are you okay?" Freddie asked, a frown on his face. Yes, Sam scared the shit out of him but their banter aside, they were friends.
"Yes, Freddie," she said, her voice strained, "I'm just sitting home, looking horrible for no apparent reason. Now get out of here before I… punch you, or something." Freddie furrowed his brows. If Sam didn't already plan how she was going to physically abuse him, something was wrong.
"Seriously, Sam," Freddie began before he saw Sam's fist pull back, ready to strike.
He flinched, ready to feel the impact of the heavy fist that he had become so accustomed to. He watched as she brought it down. Instead of the pain and bruising he expected, her fist landed lamely on his chest. He watched as it trembled.
Something was definitely wrong.
Very gently, he touched her hot wrist with his cool hand. Sam tried to jerk away and when she couldn't, she opened her mouth to spit out an insult, but Freddie cut her off.
"Sam, have you been to a doctor yet?"
"I don't need to go to a doctor, Fredweird," Sam snapped. It would have had more effect if she hadn't begun to cough violently after "need".
"Yes, you do," Freddie insisted, "where's your mother?"
"I don't know," she pried her hand away from him, "with her new boyfriend I guess." Freddie frowned. He couldn't just leave her there.
"C'mon Sam, I'm going to take you," Freddie said after considering it for a little while. Sam looked at Freddie like he was crazy.
"Just because I'm sick doesn't mean I can't kill you," she said seriously.
"Sam," Freddie droned, "go get a coat while I call taxi."
"Fredward," Sam droned, mockingly, "I'm not going to the doctor."
"Yes, you are," Freddie continued to insist. "Carly's worried about you. She thinks you're going to die and she says it'll be my fault." Well, in regards to the soup… but either way, Sam needed to see a doctor.
"You two discussed my death?" Sam asked trying to clear her throat. As she spoke her voice got progressively worse. Freddie sighed, Sam was so difficult even when she wasn't at the top of her game.
"As much as we both hate to admit it, we're friends. Violence and verbal abuse aside," Freddie said. "So, please, just let me take you to a doctor."
Sam was silent for a moment and even though he wouldn't mention it, he knew he won. She turned around, grabbed her jacket and the two of them waited for a cab to arrive.
So, tell me what you think. It's my first iCarly fanfiction and I obviously don't have the wit and skills of Dan Schneider but I tried. R&R please!