AN-So I've had the first chapter of this story written for awhile now, but I've been hesitant about putting it up. It's more dramatic than any of my other Seddie stories on this site. But I decided I really wanted to write this story so I went ahead and published it. I hope you guys enjoy it. And unlike my other stories, Seddie Oneshots and iStart my Life, this story does actually have an ending. I think it will probably be around 15-20 chapters. Please let me know what you all think. Like I said, this completely different from anything else I've written.

….

Sam Puckett slammed her car door closed, hugging her coat tight to her body as she trudged through the snow that had fallen in her apartment complex's parking lot. Cursing the fact that she just had get stuck on the top floor of the building, Sam headed up the stairs as quickly as she could, still slightly out of breath by the time she reached the top, even though she climbed these stairs at least twice a day. She fished in her pockets for her keys once she reached her door, 14A, and let herself into her home.

The T.V. was blasting she could faintly smell the remains of a microwave dinner.

"Hi mom," Sam's eleven-year old daughter, Leah, said, looking up from the television show she was watching.

"Hi sweetie," Sam smiled, tossing her keys into the dish by the front door and crossing the living room to meet her. She bent down and kissed the top of her head. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah," Leah nodded.

Sam placed a hand on her forehead. "You're burning up still," she sighed.

"I don't feel that sick though," Leah mumbled.

"Well hopefully this new medication will start working soon," Sam said, removing her hand. "Where's Mrs. Fisher?"

Mrs. Fisher was the elderly woman who lived in the apartment across from Sam who would have babysit while she was at work.

"She had to run back to her place because her casserole was burning," Leah explained.

"Where's your sister?"

"She's-"

"I'm here."

Sam turned around to see Leah's twin sister, Kira, coming into the room.

Leah and Kira were fraternal twins, but they both still inherited her blonde hair. Kira, though, had also inherited much more of her personality. While Leah was quiet and reserved, Kira was, for lack of a better term, a bit of a troublemaker.

"How was school?" Sam asked Kira.

"Eh," Kira shrugged.

"Eh?" Sam repeated. "Well, that's something…Anyway, did Mrs. Fisher make you guys dinner?"

"She made us some frozen thing," Kira said. "But it sucked."

"She tried," Leah pointed out.

"Yeah, and it still sucked," Kira snapped. "I'm starving."

Sam chuckled. "You girls want me to cook you something?"

Both of the twins nodded.

"Fine," Sam replied. "Kira, come help me then."

"What?" Kira exclaimed. "I'm in the middle of a videogame in my room!"

"Then you can keep playing it all night while Leah and I feast on Mama's homemade fried chicken," Sam said simply.

Groaning, Kira stomped after her mother into the kitchen.

"Why doesn't Leah ever have to help?" Kira demanded as Sam pulled out a pack of chicken from the fridge.

"Because," Sam said. "She's sick."

"She's always sick," Kira mumbled, crossing her arms.

"Hey," Sam said firmly. "Watch it."

Kira rolled her eyes but said nothing more.

"So," Sam said as she poured some oil into a pot onto the stove. "Am I going to get anymore how school was than 'eh'?"

"Well, um…I won't have to go there for awhile," Kira started sheepishly.

"Why?" Sam said slowly.

"Because I sort of…got suspended."

"Suspended?" Sam cried. "Kira! That's the second time this semester! One more strike and they'll expel you! What did you do this time?"

"I got into a fight," Kira muttered.

"A fight? Really?" Sam said, trying to sound harsh while at the same time trying not to think about how hypocritical she was being at the moment, considering the fact that she had probably gotten into the same amount of fights as Kira when she had been in the sixth grade.

"It wasn't my fault!" Kira defended.

"Sure it wasn't," Sam said, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

"It's true!" Kira said. "These girls were making fun of Kira at lunch…saying how sickly she looks and that she might as well just live at the hospital. Only I'm allowed to say those things…so I taught them a lesson."

"Oh," Sam said, her tone softening. "Well, um…next time-"

"Don't get caught?" Kira finished, grinning.

Sam laughed and rustled her daughter's hair as she turned back to the chicken.

"So what did you do at work today?" Kira asked, helping her mother coat the meat with a special breadcrumb mix that Sam had perfected over the years.

"Oh you know, same old stuff," Sam said.

"Did you shoot anyone?"

Sam gave her a stern look.

"Never mind," Kira sighed.

Sam worked as a cop for the NYPD. Actually, more specifically, she was a detective, meaning she no longer had to wear the dreaded blue polyester uniform. True, she never exactly worried about her appearance, but even Sam had to admit that no one could pull off that outfit, and was extremely excited when she got promoted five years ago and realized she could now go to work in clothes she didn't want to burn.

Sam liked her job, as ironic as it was, considering all her trouble with the law during her youth. However the job's unusual, long hours did make it hard for her sometimes as a single mother of two pre-teens. She supposed she was lucky to live across from Mrs. Fisher, who claimed since her own children never brought their kids around to her, she had to use up all of her grandmothering on someone.

Sam began to place the coated chicken into the now bubbling oil on the stove and the kitchen was suddenly filled with her favorite scent of frying meat. She wondered why it had taken her so long to start making her own fried chicken; it could've saved her a ton of money back in her teens. But then again, she never bought her own fried chicken back then. She always mooched it off of Carly and Freddie…

Carly and Freddie…Just thinking about those two made her painfully aware of the empty feeling inside of her. The feeling that had been present for the past twelve years.

Twelve years…Sometimes she really was amazed that it had been that long since she had seen them. If anyone had told her back in high school that she wouldn't have any contact with Carly or Freddie for that long, she would've laughed in their face.

But here they were.

And as empty as she felt sometimes, thinking back to the past, when everything thing had been simpler and her days were spent lounging on the Shay's couch picking on Freddie, she knew there was no way she would ever go back. Never again would she have anything to do with Carly or Freddie. Not after what had happened between them. She was determined of that.

"Mom, are you trying to cremate that chicken?" Kira asked, bringing Sam back to reality.

"Huh?" Sam frowned, looking down at the chicken she was frying, seeing that it was now very overcooked. "Oh! Dang it…Sorry."

"It's okay," Kira said. "Chicken's chicken."

"I've taught you well," Sam smiled.

…..

Meanwhile, across the country, back in Seattle, Freddie Benson sat a small café booth, tapping his fingers on the wood table impatiently as he read the menu in front of him for the hundredth time.

"Hey!" Carly Shay said suddenly, hurrying into the restaurant and sitting down across from him. "Sorry I'm late."

"No problem," Freddie said. "I already ordered you your cappuccino."

"Thanks," Carly smiled sweetly, shrugging off her jacket. "Man, it's raining like crazy out there. Did you get caught in it too?"

"Nah, I got in here just in time," Freddie said.

"Lucky you," Carly said darkly. "I just got my hair done yesterday for my big meeting this afternoon and now it's probably ruined."

"Your hair looks fine, Carls."

"Oh, you're a boy. What do you know?" Carly smirked.

Freddie rolled his eyes.

Carly and Freddie weren't dating. They were just very good friends still, after all these years. And while they both had gone their own ways career wise, Carly was an editor at a fashion magazine and Freddie worked for the Pear Company, and lived very busy lives, they both managed to craft an hour gap every Friday into their schedules for their weekly lunch to catch up on everything.

"So," Carly said as their waiter brought two cappuccinos out. "How's that new app you've been working on coming along?"

"Not as well as I hoped, but it should hopefully be out of the design phase soon," Freddie told her. "What about you? You have that big fashion shoot to cover next week. Aren't you excited for that?"

"Yeah," Carly said. She looked down at her lap as she sipped her drink.
Freddie frowned. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Carly answered quickly.

"Carly…" Freddie said knowingly.

"It's nothing," Carly said, setting her cup down. "It's just…well, you want to know why I was late?"

"Why?"

"Because I got stopped by this one woman," Carly explained. "She-She asked me if I was Carly Shay."

"Does she read your magazine?" Freddie inquired.

"That's what I thought at first, but no, she doesn't," Carly said. "She recognized me from iCarly."

Freddie blinked. It had been years since they talked about iCarly. "Really?"

"Yeah," Carly nodded. "Weird, right? I mean, the show ended twelve years ago. Anyway, we were talking for a little bit and I told her I was on my way here to have lunch with you. And she obviously freaked out because she was a big fan of yours and she said she had no idea that we still hung out. I told her you and I were still buds, but then…then she asked me about Sam."

Freddie gripped his mug tightly. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Carly sighed. "I guess she assumed that since I said you and I were still close…"

"Makes sense," Freddie agreed. "But, um, what'd you say?"

"I didn't say anything," Carly said. "I just said that I was late to meet you here and said bye."

Freddie didn't reply.

"Do you think I should've said something more?" Carly asked.

"How could you?" Freddie mumbled. "You don't know what Sam's up to?"

"Oh…right," Carly said.

Freddie began spooning sugar into his drink. It was true; neither of them knew what Sam was up to now. She could still be there in Seattle, or she could be off in Australia. Him and Carly hadn't talked to Sam in twelve years. Not since that day…

….

Twelve years ago

"Wow," Carly whispered, taking one last look at the pile of props that her, Sam, Freddie and Gibby had used just a few minutes ago during their last ever web show. "I can't believe it's really over."

Sam, who was standing next to her, didn't reply.

"I mean," Carly continued. "It seems like just yesterday we were three thirteen year olds who wanted to try and post a few funny videos…And now…now we're eighteen, all grown up, about to start our lives…"

"Hey," Freddie said, setting his camera down and putting a comforting arm around her. "We-We all knew it had to end at some point, didn't we? We couldn't just keep doing iCarly our whole lives, could we?"

"No," Carly sighed. "I guess you're right. It had to end at some point."

"Why?" Sam asked suddenly.

Carly and Freddie looked at her.

"What do you mean?" Freddie asked.

"I mean why does it have to end?" Sam asked. "Think about it! We all know iCarly is like, the most successful web show on the Internet. Why should we just let that go?"

"Because we need to go out into the real world and go to college to get jobs and make money to support ourselves, remember?" Carly grinned. "We can't do that by running iCarly all our lives."

"Sure we could," Sam said thoughtfully. "There's lots of people who make their money from the Internet without having to go to college. We just find a few sponsors, which will be easy for us, maybe do two or three shows a week instead of one, get some merchandise out there. Who knows? In a couple years we could get a T.V. show or something! Not a lame one, though, like that weird one we tried out when we were kids with the dinosaur. I'm talking bigger. Maybe we can see if Jimmy Fallon is still a fan of the show. He could put in a word with some of his producers and-"

"Sam, come on, you can't be serious," Freddie scoffed.

"Why not, nub?" Sam snapped.

"Sam, look, I'm sad about iCarly ending too," Carly said understandingly. "We all are. But we can't just dedicate the rest of our time to it because we're upset. We need to move on to the next chapter of our lives!"

"Where'd you get that one?" Sam mumbled, rolling her eyes. "A fortune cookie?"

"I'm serious," Carly said. "And I promise, Sam, you're going to feel a whole lot better about the show ending once you start doing some new things. Heck, when you start at that culinary school in the fall-"

"Yeah, about that," Sam sighed. "I'm-I'm not exactly going anymore."

"Huh?" Freddie frowned. "What do you mean? I thought they accepted you months ago."

"They did," Sam mumbled. "But they ran background checks on all of their students and, well, obviously there was some stuff that they saw when they did mine that probably didn't look too good. So they sent me an email last week that told me they have to take back their acceptance."

"What?" Carly exclaimed. "They can't do that!"

"Did you try calling the school and talking to the dean?" Freddie asked.

"He claims that all acceptances to that place were tentative until they did those stupid background checks," Sam explained. "But…whatever. I don't need that place."

"Er, right," Carly nodded.

"But Sam, what are you going to do now?" Freddie asked.

"I told you, we could all make a fortune off of iCarly still!" Sam said, thumping the back of his head.

"What? Sam, no," Carly said.

"Why not?" Sam moaned.

"Because, Carly and I are going to college in a few weeks," Freddie told her. "We won't have time to do the show once our classes start."

Sam said nothing.

"He-He's right Sam," Carly said gently. "I'm sorry about the culinary school, but you can't just hide behind iCarly for the rest of your life. We-We'll figure something out. It's not too late to enroll at community college! And in a couple years you could transfer to another university, earn a degree-"

"You and I both know there's no way I could make that happen," Sam said bitterly. She turned on her heel and headed towards the studio door.

"Where are you going?" Freddie asked.

"To stuff my face with ham," Sam muttered.

"Wow," Carly said softly. "Poor Sam."

"I know," Freddie agreed. "That culinary school was the only place she got into, wasn't it?"

Carly nodded. "And she was so excited when she got in."

"It's not fair that they're holding her record against her," Freddie said.

"I know," Carly said miserably. "And I feel horrible for her, I really do. But…she can't expect us to keep doing iCarly. It's like you said; you and I are going up to University of Washington in just a few weeks."

"Exactly," Freddie said.

Freddie and Carly had both been accepted to the university months ago. It had been Carly's first choice. Freddie, of course, had his sights set on schools that were highly advanced in technology, like MIT and Cal Tech. But, well, his mother nearly had a panic attack at the very thought of her only son leaving the state without her, and as much as she annoyed him, she was his mom, and he ended up compromising and accepting his offer to University of Washington with Carly.

Sam had also applied to the university, only to stop Carly's pestering. She didn't get in, though. She claimed she saw it coming and wasn't bothered at all by the rejection, but Freddie swore he saw a bit of sadness in those blue eyes the day she got that email…

"I wish there was something we could do," Freddie continued, opening up his laptop on his tech cart and pulling up his email account. "Maybe you should have one of your girly sleepover things and talk to her about doing that community college thing for real. That way she can-What?! No!"

"What? What happened?" Carly asked, rushing over to his side.

"I-I just got an email from University of Washington," Freddie said slowly. "Here, listen to it. 'Dear Mr. Benson, Due to our high number of accepted students this year and our newly limited amount of space at the university, we regret to inform you that we must resend our acceptance of you to the school.'"

"What?" Carly exclaimed. "They can't do that!"

"Maybe you should check your email too," Freddie said, his eyes still wide with shock. "And make sure you're still safe."

"Okay," Carly nodded, quickly pulling up her email on his computer.

"What am I going to do now?" Freddie moaned. "I was supposed to start there in a few weeks! I already turned down all my other offers; I have nowhere else to go!"

"We-We'll figure this out," Carly assured him. "We'll-No! I-I got the same letter."

"What's going on?" Freddie asked. "I mean, I know that most universities have the same policy as Sam's culinary school about background checks, but you and I wouldn't have any problem with that! Maybe…Maybe it was our test scores? Or-Or maybe we didn't have strong enough recommendation letters. Or maybe-wait. Hang on a second."

"What?" Carly asked, already beginning to pace back and forth nervously.

"There's something weird about this email," Freddie said slowly. "Look at the bottom where the university president's name is printed."

"So?" Carly frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"It says 'Richard Witherings'," Freddie said.

"Yeah. And?"

"The president of the University of Washington's name is Richard Witherhing," Freddie said. "It's spelled wrong on here."

"It is?" Carly said.

"Yeah," Freddie said slowly. "And look. This email is in a completely different font than any other email we've gotten from the school."

"You're right," Carly said. "But what's that mean?"

"Hold on," Freddie said thoughtfully, typing quickly into his keyboard. "Let me see if I can figure out where exactly this email was sent from….Ah-ha! Got it! It was sent from…CyberRibs?"

"That new rib joint with all the computers?" Carly said. "Sam loves that place."

"I don't think a university would send out rejection emails from a public computer at some rib shack," Freddie said.

"What are you saying?" Carly asked.

"I'm saying…I think those emails were fake," Freddie told her.

"Fake?" Carly repeated. "Well-Well who would do that? I mean what if you hadn't been able to find that out? Huh? We would've just not shown up for the start of the semester! Oh my God! We would've of-"

"Carls, calm down," Freddie said.

"What did I tell you about telling girls to calm down?" Carly snapped. "Is there any way that you can find out who sent that email? Because I swear, when I get my hands on them-"

"You'll what?" Freddie asked, amused. "You're Carly. You're not exactly intimidating."

"Can you find out who sent that email or not?" Carly asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"I think so," Freddie nodded, still typing away at his computer. "See, CyberRibs makes everyone sign onto their computers with a special username and password. If I can hack into their system, I can find out the user who was on the computer when the email was sent."

"Cool, now type faster!" Carly said urgently.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Freddie hissed. "Be patient, will you? Oh, wait. I got it!"

"Good," Carly said, satisfied. "Now who was it?"

"Whoa," Freddie said softly, staring at the screen. "No way…"

"What?" Carly asked.

"It-It was Sam," Freddie said.

"Huh?"

"Look," Freddie said, showing her the screen. "That email was sent from that computer when a SamPuckettLovesAMeatBucket was signed in."

"That's Sam's username," Carly whispered. "I-I don't believe it. Sam sent us those letters?"

Freddie nodded. "I can't believe she would do that. I mean…I know she was a little upset that you and I were going to be leaving, but she knew how much we were looking forward to starting college."

"I know," Carly nodded.

Freddie still stared at the computer screen. He would've never thought Sam would do this. She would do a lot of things, sure, but this? Even she had limits. Or at least, he thought she did. He had always thought Sam was the type of person who would at least look out for her friends.

The longer he stared at that computer screen, the angrier he got. What kind of person would do this? This wasn't just a harmless prank. This could've messed up his entire future. Did she really care that little about him?

Somehow, just that thought, about her not caring, upset him more than the situation itself. He couldn't exactly figure out why though…

"Come on," Carly said angrily, snapping him out of his daze. "Let's go talk to her!"

"Yeah!" Freddie echoed, following Carly as she stormed out of the studio.

The two of them stomped down the steps and into the kitchen, where Sam was sitting at the table, eating sliced ham.

"Okay, Puckett!" Freddie said harshly, causing Sam to jump slightly in surprise.

"What?" she frowned, looking up.
"Don't 'what' us!" Carly snapped. "I can't believe you did that Sam?"

"What'd I do?" Sam asked, not sounding too concerned. "Oh. Look, is this about the paint I spilled on your comforter the other day?"

"Huh? No! It's about that email!"

"Email?" Sam repeated. "What email?"

"Don't play dumb," Freddie said harshly. "We figured out it was you who sent it."

"I'm not playing dumb," Sam spat. "What email are you two talking about?"

"The one that told Freddie and I we weren't accepted into University of Washington after all!" Carly said loudly.

"You two didn't get in?" Sam asked. "But…why would they reject you now? I mean, neither of you would fail a background check."

"We didn't get rejected!" Freddie yelled. "You just wanted us to think we did so we'd stay here in Seattle like you!"

"What?"

"You sent that fake email from CyberRibs!" Carly said.
"No I didn't!" Sam retorted.

"Freddie traced it back to a computer from there that was signed in on your account," Carly said, crossing her arms. "And you're always hanging out at that place. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together, Sam. How could you do that? Do you even realize what you could've done? Do you even care that you could've ruined my future and Freddie's future with those emails?"

"I didn't send those emails!" Sam exclaimed. "Why would I want to keep you two from that place anyway?"

"Because you were upset that everyone else had plans but you," Freddie said, anger building up inside of him. "Carly and I were going to leave for college while you were stuck here in Seattle because you didn't get in anywhere! Well you know what, Sam? You need to just accept the fact that everyone else didn't slack off their whole life and is moving on. You can't drag us all down with you!"

Sam looked taken aback at Freddie's brazen comment. She looked over at Carly, expecting her best friend to say something in her defense, but Carly looked as if she agreed with every word that had come out of his mouth.

"I didn't send any email," Sam said again.

"I always knew you were a world-class liar," Carly said softly. "I just never thought you'd lie to us."

Sam blinked. "Are you two seriously not going to believe me?"

"We know what happened, Sam," Freddie said firmly.
Sam shook her head. "Well you're wrong."

"I would've never thought you would do something like this," Carly said softly.

"Yeah, well," Sam said, her voice just as poisonous as Carly's. "I would've never thought you'd have this little faith in your so-called-best-friend."

And with that she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

…

That was the last time Carly or Freddie had seen Sam. For the first year or two, they would occasionally bring her up, mostly saying how they still couldn't believe she hadn't apologized from almost keeping them from attending college. But then, as time went by, they simply…didn't mention her.

Of course, Freddie could only speak for himself, but even though he didn't speak about Sam, that didn't mean he didn't think about her. Constantly.

"Well, still," Carly said, picking up a menu. "It was kind of weird talking about iCarly again."

"I bet," Freddie nodded. "Anyway, I'm starved."

"Well, I think that's our waitress coming now," Carly said.

Sure enough, a young woman stopped by the table with a pad of paper.

"Hi," Freddie smiled. "I'll have the turkey burger."

"And I'll have a garden salad," Carly said.

"Sure thing," the waitress said. "But first…well, I hope you don't think I was eavesdropping, but I heard you guys mention iCarly and you look very familiar. You wouldn't happen to be Carly Shay and Freddie Benson from the show, would you?"

"Well, yeah," Freddie chuckled. "We are."

"Oh my God," the waitress grinned. "No way! I was like, such a huge fan of the show when I was a kid! You guys were the best!"

"Aw, that's so sweet," Carly said politely.

"I was so sad when the show ended," the waitress continued.

"Well, so were we," Freddie told her. "But, you know, we grew up. We had to move on to the rest of our lives."

"Right," Carly nodded.

"Yeah, well, a lot of us fans were pretty bitter," the waitress said. "In fact…" she gave a small laugh. "Man, I can't believe we did this. But right after your last show ended, me and a few of my friends who watched the show too sent you two these fake emails from the University of Washington saying that your acceptances had been denied because we were hoping that you all would keep doing the show!"

Carly nearly choked on her cappuccino and Freddie almost fell out of the booth.

"W-What?" Carly asked weakly.

"Yeah, we found a free computer at some old rib place that used to be here, wrote that email and sent it the both of you," the waitress chortled. "Stupid of us, really. But well, looks like you two still managed to get there." She nodded at the University of Washington phone case Freddie had on his Pearphone on the table.

"You-You sent that email?" Freddie asked, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing.

"Yeah, but hey, we've all done dumb things before," the waitress shrugged. "Anyway, I'll go put your orders in."

"I-How-Wait," Carly said as the waitress left. "How could she have sent that email? I thought that it was sent under Sam's account."

"It was!" Freddie said.

"But then how come this lady is saying she did it?" Carly hissed. "Is she lying?"

"She can't be; no one else but us knew about that email," Freddie said. "I still don't know why it showed up under Sam's account. Unless…oh no."

"What?"

"You remember how you and I would always hound Sam about signing out of her accounts when she would use our laptops?" Freddie said, his voice shaking.

"Yes," Carly nodded. "But what does that have to-oh no. Are you saying-"

"Sam probably didn't sign out of her account at the rib place where the email was sent," Freddie said, feeling sick to his stomach. "She was probably there earlier that day, left the computer open, and then that waitress and her friends took it over when she was gone! That's why it showed up under her account!"

"S-So Sam was telling us the truth that day," Carly said, her eyes watering up. "She didn't send us those emails."

"No," Freddie said.

"Oh my God," Carly said, tears beginning to fall down her face. "Freddie? What did we do?"