Disclaimer: I don't own any of the copyrights to the shows Victorious and iCarly on Nickelodeon so I receive nothing for this story.
Author's Notes: This is my take on the crossover episode iParty With Victorious. I've changed the ages of the characters so they're seventeen years old, juniors in high school, to make it a little more realistic and believable. Other than that I'll try to stick to how they'd normally act in the show.
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Oranges
Chapter 1
Boomba
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"It's a game my mom taught me," Samantha 'Sam' Puckett said as she grabbed six oranges out of the Shay's refrigerator and walked back to the living room, handing three of the round ripe fruit to Fredward 'Freddie' Benson along the way. Sam took up a position at the far end of the couch near the front door of the Shay apartment, a good ten feet away from the young man.
"And what's this game called again?" Freddie asked as he examined one of the large oranges.
"It's called 'Boomba'," the blond girl casually said as she nonchalantly tossed one of the oranges in the air and caught it.
"Oh dear," Carly Shay groaned to herself from the island counter where she was working on the computer. "This isn't gonna to be good." She knew that when Sam was using food for anything other than eating, it wouldn't turn out well for someone; Usually Freddie. But Carly always tried to keep from getting caught in the crossfire so she turned back to the computer.
"And how's it played?" Freddie curiously asked, not having heard Carly's warning and unsure if he even wanted to play a game with the blond hellion in the first place. Any interaction with Sam normally ended in pain, for him at least.
"Well, you face away from your opponent and..." Sam slowly said as she turned toward the front door. She waited for a few seconds for Freddie to follow her instructions before she swiftly about-faced and heaved the orange in her right hand at him as hard as she could, striking Freddie dead center in the back.
Freddie let out a loud, agonizing grunt of pain as he winced and collapsed to the floor. He dropped his three oranges and disparately tried to grasp the injured area.
"Boomba," Samantha Puckett triumphantly gloated, raising both orange-holding fists in the air. She casually hopped up onto the couch and declared, "I win."
"Sam," Carly huffed out in bored warning like she usually did when her best female friend abused their best male friend. She'd been on the computer typing out her hopefully future married name, Carly Carson, in different fonts and Sam's abusive behavior was distracting Carly from her whimsy.
"Oh God," Freddie groaned as he writhed around on the floor in anguish, the two girls paying little attention to his agony, like always.
Of course if they had been paying attention to the young man who had been a constant in their lives for the last six or seven year they would've noticed that in his painful writhing...
Freddie wasn't moving his legs at all.
The brown-haired teen let out a loud moan that finally drew the attention of Sam. She kicked Freddie's leg and angrily growled at him, "Get up you Nub! I didn't hurt you that bad!"
Now normally when Sam would kick or punch Freddie it would illicit a response like a sharp wince or loud yelp of pain from him.
But not this time.
Freddie completely ignored her and didn't even seem to notice her sneaker striking his leg. This upset Sam even more. She derived immense pleasure from his pained reactions. If Freddie didn't react, she'd never get her rush of blissful satisfaction.
So...
"Get up, Fredweird," Sam commandingly yelled as she kicked him again and again in the leg to get the desired reaction. "I wanna play some more."
Carly was brought out of her reverie over her possible future name by Sam's extremely loud, forceful antics. The brunette girl was horrified when she turned and saw Sam repeatedly kicking Freddie. "Sam! STOP!" Carly screeched and swiftly jumped from her stool, dashed over and pushed the blond away from the prone young man. "Can't you see he's hurt?" Carly plopped down on the floor and tried to cradle her male friend in her arms.
"That's the whole idea of the game," Sam laughed like it was a given.
"I can't... feel my... legs," Freddie grunted out between painfully panted breathes.
"Oh God," Carly anxiously squeaked and gently laid Freddie back on the floor. She warned him, "Don't move, Freddie. If you can't feel your legs you may have injure your spine."
Just then the front door flew open and Freddie's mother, Mrs. Marissa Benson, came rushing in. She angrily begged, "What's going on over here? I could hear you yelling clear across the hall." She saw her son lying face down on the floor and screamed, "Freddie!" and ran over to him, her motherly over-protectiveness kicking in.
"Don't touch him," Carly warned as she leaned over the prone boy and held Mrs. Benson at bay to keep the woman from moving her son. "Sam hit him with an orange in the back and he just said he can't feel his legs." She held out her PearPhone for the woman to see and added, "I was just about to call an ambulance."
"Thank you for telling me, that's the correct procedure," Marissa said as she snatched the phone from Carly's hand, her nurse's training kicking in. "I'll make the call, Carlotta. It would help a lot if you could go over to my apartment and bring back the medical kit near the front door?"
"The big one?" Carly asked as she stood up and swiftly rushed toward the hallway.
"That's the one," Mrs. Benson hollered over her shoulder as she dialed the three digit emergency telephone number. She carefully lifted the back of Freddie's shirt and gingerly felt around his spine for any apparent damage. She immediately noticed the round, angry red spot forming on his back.
"What's the big deal?" Sam naively asked with a chuckle. "Fred-dork is always getting hurt whenever we play around but he always bounces back."
Marissa held out one finger telling Sam to hold on for a minute while she quietly spoke into the phone. After she hung up the call, she turned on the blond girl and angrily growled, "The big deal, Samantha," the blond girl's name forcefully coming out dripping with spite and venom, "is that this injury is far worse than any of the many little cuts and bruises you've inflicted on my Freddie in the past."
"Yeah but..." Sam got out before she was interrupted as her brunette friend walked back into the room, straining with the heavy weight of the huge three foot tall by two foot wide, red emergency box.
"I got it," Carly called out, interrupting the conversation/debate.
"Good, Carly," Mrs. Benson said as she cautiously removed Freddie's left shoe and sock. "In the upper left hand corner of the box is a single, brown pill container. Get it out."
Carly set the big box down on the floor, unlatched the front cover and swung open the case. She quickly scanned the upper left quadrant of the medical kit and found the appropriate container. Noticing that it contains some large white pills, she held it out to Marissa and said, "Here you go. I'll get some water to wash it down."
Marissa took the vial from Carly and and removed one of the pills while the young girl rushed to the kitchen. Carly rummaged around in a cabinet for a few seconds before she found the sports bottle with a solid folding straw in the lid that she was looking for and filled the container at the sink. Then she rushed back over to the two Bensons.
"I would've preferred bottled water," Mrs. Benson grumbled low to herself as she administered the pill to her son and let him sip from the sports bottle to help swallow it, "but at least she thought enough to bring a sealable bottle with a straw so the water wouldn't spill all over the place and cause someone to slip and fall."
After she closed the water bottle and set it aside, Marissa softly whispered next to her son's ear, "Freddie dear, can you do mommy a big favor and wiggle your toes?" She leaned back to get a go look at Freddie's bare foot.
The foot and toes didn't move a centimeter.
Mrs. Marissa Benson let out a heavy sigh but put on a happy face as she leaned back in and lied, "Mommy's very proud of you son. You did good."
Two men suddenly appeared at the front door of the apartment. They were dressed in the normal, dark blue jumpsuit of an Emergency Medical Technician. Between them was a rolling gurney. One asked, "Did somebody call the Paramedics?"
"Thank God you're here," Mrs. Benson said as she again went into medical mode and stood up to greet them. "We have a seventeen year old male with possible spinal damage around the T7 or T8 vertebra and he can't move his lower extremities. I've administered one, fifteen milligram Oxycodine pill for the pain."
"Thank you, ma'am," the other EMT said as the first took the backboard off of the gurney and moved over to the injured person. "That was very precise. Are you in the medical profession?"
"Yes, I'm a nurse at the hospital and pull quite a few shifts in the E.R.," Marissa said as she relaxed just a little, knowing that her son was now in good hands since the EMTs in Seattle were some of the best in the country. She'd been surprisingly detached and professional after her initial shock, but now her anxiety kicked in as the seriousness of the situation and the person involved came crashing down around her. She plaintively wailed, "I'm also his mother!"
Both of the EMTs looked up at the highly distraught woman from their work on Freddie and hoped she wouldn't get in their way by trying to get to her son in her present condition. One of them caught Carly's eye and motioned for her to distract Marissa so they could do their job. (Sam seemed to be more concerned in idly juggling her oranges, trying to keep well out of the way and not caring one wit about what was happening to the dork, but she did occasionally glanced over at the boy. Of course everybody was too preoccupied with other things to notice Sam's eyes occasionally showing a bit of concern for her male friend.)
Carly went over to Marissa and tried to steer her to the couch as she said, "Mrs. Benson, why don't you take a seat over here while they examine Freddie."
Mrs. Benson and Carly had barely made it over to the tan sofa in the living room before two Police Officers appeared at the still open front door of the apartment.
Seeing them, Sam half jokingly-half nervously begged, "Did somebody call the cops?"
"I did..." Mrs. Benson practically growled in anger, suddenly snapping out of her grief. She pointed at the blond girl while addressing the Officers, "...and I want you to arrest her, Samantha Puckett."
"What's the charge?" one of the Officers asked as they fully entered the room.
"Assault and battery," Freddie's mother told them as she approached the two cops. "She viscously attacked my son and now he may be paralyzed from the waist down."
"Whoa-whoa-whoa," Sam shook her head and held out her hands in denial of the situation. "I only threw an orange at the Nub's back. How can he possibly be paralyze?"
One of the Officers had been bringing up some information on Personal Digital Assistant (PDA) during the exchange and showed it to his partner. The partner read the rap sheet for one 'Samantha Puckett" on the screen then let out a heavy sigh before turning to the blond girl. "You've been a very naughty girl for quite some time, Miss Puckett," he said as he took out his handcuffs. "I'm afraid we'll have to take you in and book you."
"But it was just a small prank," Sam yelled, trying to defend herself.
"A prank that ended with someone majorly injured," the Officer countered. "Considering that you just openly confessed to what you did, that amounts to assault with the willful intent to do bodily harm."
"Okay," Sam agreed, suddenly realizing that her prank may have stepped over the line since the paramedics had to be called. She knelt down with her ankles crossed behind her back, laced her hands behind her head and calmly said, "But can ya put the cuffs on loose? Mamma don't like it when they dig into her wrists."