A/N: Sam's mother yells at the cat to get a job. My interpretation? She's clearly off her meds. D:

Sam, Freddie, and Carly are 15 in this story. Pre-Seddie, I suppose. Slight AU. BTW, not Carly bashing here, just noting the differences I see between the two and how they look at the world.

Also, keep in mind that I haven't seen every single episode, though I have seen quite a few. Now, enjoy! XD

Rain

Sam pulled her hood further over her head, until she almost couldn't see when she looked up. That was pretty dangerous, considering she was currently scaling a fire escape in the pouring rain. It didn't matter to her, though. Just like it didn't matter that she was soaked, so the hood wouldn't make much difference anyway; she just wanted it there.

She stopped at a familiar window, and kneeled in front of it. At first, all she did was trace the outline of old, fraying Spiderman stickers. Batman was there, too. They were hangin' out, looking at the downpour that Sam was currently sitting in, talking about how stupid she was for not using the front door. She knocked lightly at first. Nothing.

Realizing that it probably wouldn't be heard over the sound of the rain, she knocked a little harder. A few seconds later, and she saw a geeky, tired face peeking out at her from in between the curtains. "Let me in, Fred-dweeb!" She wasn't sure whether he heard her, or read her lips, but in the next second he opened the window and held one curtain aside to let her in.

As soon as she stepped foot on his plush blue carpet, he closed the window and turned to face her. "Are you a complete moron?" Freddie was being stern with her, and she was a little scared as she stood there shivering. The role reversal was quick, and almost too much for her.

"Shouldn't I b-be saying that to you?" Though she tried to keep her cold-induced stuttering to a minimum, it managed to peek through. Another weakness shown, and even one was one too many.

Freddie's features softened just enough for her to let her mouth form a microscopic smile. He turned to his dresser and pulled out a large t-shirt and a pair of dark green swimming trunks. They were too small for him, but Sam knew he kept them around just for her. Freddie didn't know that she knew, but that only made knowing better.

She could tell that he was muttering to himself angrily as he closed the door behind him, and she let her smile grow.

The shirt was soft and gray and warm, and she could feel the back of it getting wet as she pulled her hair from underneath, and let it settle on her back. She moved her drenched clothes and shoes to the top of Freddie's hamper, as usual, and went to open the door.

"You could've fallen." These were the first words she heard as her sometimes friend marched to his bed and sat down.

"Don't worry," she said, closing the door, "the cement would've caught me." The smile died on her lips when she saw his expression. "What?" She hated it when he looked at her that way; it made her feel like jell-o inside, all quivery and strange.

He shook his head and looked away. "That's not funny, Sam."

"Yeah, well neither is anything else that's happened tonight…" It was nothing more than a mumble, but she was sure Freddie had heard; he was annoying that way.

Freddie quietly patted the space next to him on the bed and Sam obliged, sitting carefully, as far away as she could without risking falling off. They sat that way for a few minutes, Sam staring at her hands, and Freddie staring at the floor. Finally, Sam took a deep breath.

"My mom is off her meds again…" She didn't really want to get into all the gory details, and she knew Freddie wouldn't make her. He was kind of afraid of it. She understood that, and she didn't mind. Sometimes she was afraid of it too.

He relaxed and pushed himself further back on the bed, until his back hit the wall and he was sitting cross-legged. Sam soon followed suit, and they were thrust into silence again.

"I know you like to use the fire escape so Carly doesn't see you, but next time it's raining just use the freaking stairs. That way, I don't have to worry about her seeing a Sam pancake on the pavement the next morning, instead." She could tell he was looking at her this time, that it was said half-jokingly, but her gaze couldn't meet his at that moment.

She didn't want Carly to see, she never wanted Carly to have to witness this part of her. This silent, deadly weakness. And at least Fred-dork would never tell anyone about her mom, how she sometimes 'forgot' to take her medication for days at a time. Not just because it would be embarrassing for people to know, but because they both knew Sam might get taken away and shoved into foster care. And, as batshit crazy as her mother was, Sam loved her.

Sam loved Carly too, but she knew her best friend wouldn't think that way. She'd have to do the right thing. And usually Sam actually liked that quality in Carly, but in this situation, there was no clear 'right thing' to do. Things were kind of black and white for Carly, in that respect, with only a few gray areas. Sam knew that she would tell an adult first, and worry about the consequences later. Do first, think later was normally Sam's area of expertise, except for when it came to doing what was right. That was where Carly came in, and that was part of the reason they made such a great team. Sometimes it pissed Sam off, though; at moments like this when she needed her best friend the most.

"Thanks, Freddie." Her voice was quiet. The cold that had sunk so deeply into her bones was taking it's sweet time leaving.

Before she even knew it, she was crying, quiet tears slipping down her cheeks. Freddie lifted the covers and got in, leaving a space between him and the wall for Sam. She sniffled, and climbed under the blankets wishing she could stay there for the next four years.

But someone was with her, someone who cared enough not to throw her out on her ass for waking him up in the middle of the night. Someone who didn't pretend to understand, who didn't try to make it 'all better'. He was here, and though their bodies barely touched, she could feel the heat radiating off of him until it enveloped her, too.

Tonight, as it had been so many nights before, that was enough.