Freddie walked anxiously up to the main reception desk.
"I'm here to see Sam Puckett," he said. He glanced around the room as the nurse tapped at her computer. Jeez, did they have to paint all the walls white? It was like being back in his first home again. If there was one thing he could say for Lewbert, it was that he didn't allow tenants to slather their apartments in glaring white paint. Or install medical machinery 'in case of emergencies'.
"Third floor," the nurse announced. "First door on the left, you can't miss it." Freddie nodded and made for the door.
"Hold on," the nurse called after him. He stopped and looked back at her. "What's in that bag?" Freddie's face twisted in embarrassment and he reached his hand into the bag to pull out a packet of ham.
"Sam's request," he said sheepishly. The nurse snorted and waved him on.
"Samantha, please, lie down!"
"But I'm hungry! I need to get some real food!"
"Really, Samantha, you're lucky your leg didn't snap in half. Any excess movement could cause-"
"Yeah, yeah, it's gonna hurt when I walk. I get it!"
"I think you're missing the reality of your situation, Samantha..."
Carly leaned against the wall with a sigh as she listened to Sam arguing with her doctor in the room behind her. She knew that Sam would calm down when she got some food inside her, but she was confined to her bed and Carly wasn't allowed to leave until she'd been properly examined as well. All she could do was wait for Freddie to turn up, since Spencer and Gibby had both failed to pick up their phones, and Pam Puckett was in Vegas for the second time in the month.
"Dude, I can handle a little pain if it'll stop my stomach rumbling..."
"We provided you with a meal, Samantha-"
"Woah, woah. This does not count as a meal. I wouldn't give this to my cat! This looks like something my mom made!"
"Whatever your opinion of hospital food, Samantha, it doesn't change the fact that your leg is in an extremely fragile state..."
Carly let the sound of the argument get away from her again as she heard footsteps on the stairs. She straightened up and looked over the banisters.
"Freddie!" she called happily. The boy waved up at her before rounding the corner and taking the last section of the staircase in three quick steps.
"'Can't miss it', my foot," he muttered. "This building is a labyrinth!" He spread his arms to hug Carly, but stopped as he noticed the sling around her arm. He raised an eyebrow.
"Ouch," he commented. "How exactly did that happen?" He frowned as he heard a scream of anguish from behind the wall. "And what has happened to Sam?"
Carly rolled her eyes.
"She refuses to eat hospital food and she hasn't eaten since lunch. You do the math."
Freddie grinned.
"I'm surprised she's still breathing," he laughed. He pushed open the door and slipped into the room. "Hey, Sammy. Look what your favourite guy brought for you!"
Carly laughed as she heard Sam begin eating furiously. Freddie emerged from the room and pulled the door shut behind him.
"Her leg looks pretty bad," he said, frowning. "Is she gonna be ok?"
"The doctor says she just needs to give it time," Carly replied with a smile. "You remember when you had your... accident?"
Freddie nodded with a sly smirk.
"Does this mean you and Sam are gonna start making out?" he teased. "Because if you do, make sure I'm in the room first..."
"Freddie!" Carly laughed, punching him lightly on the arm. "Keep it in your dreams. We're just gonna stay as friends."
Freddie let out a mock groan before his eyes lit up again.
"So you guys made up?" he said. "You both realised you were acting like idiots?"
"...yeah."
"And who was right?"
"You were."
"And who's getting a free dinner from Sam?"
"You're not getting a dinner from Sam," Carly chuckled. "Since when does Sam give away food?"
Freddie shrugged and grinned again.
"Well, I'm still holding the moral high-ground over her for the next while. At least until her leg heals and she's able to chase me again." He narrowed his eyes.
"Shouldn't Spencer be around here? I mean, you didfracture your arm..."
Spencer lifted his head slowly and looked around the ward. The room was largely empty, save for an old man in the corner who seemed to be very loudly reliving World War II, although the constant references to "them darn Martians!" suggested that he was misremembering some key details of the war. Other than him, the only occupants of the room were Gibby, who was lying in the bed to his left, and Spencer himself. He glanced over at the boy.
"So, uh, Gibster," he said awkwardly. "How's the neck?" Gibby rolled his eyes and waved a hand.
"Oh, it's great," he replied sarcastically. "I've never been a big fan of seeing things that aren't directly in front of me."
"Fair point," Spencer muttered. "Look, I'm... I'm sorry about everything. The elevator, the balloon... the lake... But you know, you did start it. That's all I'm saying."
"Spencer, for the last time," Gibby cried out in frustration. "It wasn't me! It was Sam! It's Sam's fault!"