AUTHOR'S NOTE: iSisters has been re-uploaded, given a new summary, a new chapter, and the chance for a couple more chapters later on. I'm not sure if it will ever be updated again, though I do have a few ideas bouncing around in my head. As it is, I will be marking this story as 'complete' and if a few new chapters pop up later on, consider it a bonus. I wrote the second chapter of this story first, and uploaded it as a one shot. Then this idea popped up and had to be written. I was going to post it as a totally new story, sort of a companion piece, but then I realized that I might update again, and it might be cleaner and easier for everyone to just put it into one story. Just in case. So enjoy these snippets into my personal head canon for the lives of Sam and Melanie Puckett.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing at all. If I owned iCarly, there wouldn't be such strong leanings toward Creddie on the show, and it would be revealed that Sam was secretly a nerd.


The room is small, with two twin beds on either side. The light from the window shows you that one bed has a pink and white flowered bedspread. The other bed has a bedspread patterned with hot pink and bright orange flowers. There's a girl in each bed. One of the girls is sprawled across hers with the blankets tangled around her legs. She's fast asleep. The other girl is lying on her back, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. They look like they might be about ten, maybe eleven.

"Sam?"

"..."

"Sam?"

"..."

"Sam!"

"Hey! What'd you throw that for?"

"I wanted to see if you were awake."

"Well, I wasn't. What do you want?"

"Do you think he's here to stay this time?"

"No."

"I think he is. I heard him telling Mom."

"Doesn't he always tell her that?"

"Well, yeah. But he meant it this time. I could tell."

"No he didn't, Melanie. He didn't mean it because he never means it."

"But-"

"He's not staying. Don't convince yourself he is. He's just here to get as much money as he can out of mom, and then he's going to be out of here."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes! God, Melanie. It's what he always does. Did you ever notice that every time he comes home, we're flat broke when he leaves?"

"Because Mom-"

"No, Melanie. Not because Mom. It's him. He spends it at the bar. He spends it on new clothes. He spends it on his bus ticket. He spends it on those bribes he gives us."

"They're not bribes."

"Yes they are."

"No they're not! They're presents! Because he lo-"

"Don't. Don't even say it."

"Because he loves us!"

"..."

"...Sam?"

"He doesn't love us. If he really loved us, any of us, he wouldn't just come home every couple of years, blow all of Mom's money, and then leave. He doesn't love us. He never did."

"Yes he does!"

"Then why won't he ever stay? Why can't he stand to be around us for longer than a month?"

"It's not us, Sam! It's Mom! She-"

"Why doesn't he ever write? Or call?"

"He's just-"

"Why does he hit her?"

"I don't-"

"Why does he hit me?"

"..."

"No answer? I thought so. What he does isn't love, Melanie. He doesn't love us. He uses us. Now shut up and go to sleep."

The room is silent. The yelling in the next room is clearer now. It sounds a like a woman is crying. The girl in the pink and white flowered bedspread sits up, looking across the room at her sister.

"Sam?"

"Ugh, what now?"

"I'm sorry he hit you."

"Better me than you, right? Everyone knows you can't take a punch. Now shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

The girls fall silent. The girl with the white and pink flowered bedspread pulls a pillow over her ears to try and drown out the shouting from the other side of her wall. After a moment, though, she stands up. Quietly, she walks across the room to her sister's bed, tugging on the covers and pushes lightly on her sister's shoulder. Sam scoots over to make a little more room for Melanie, and Melanie crawls into bed next to her sister. The light coming in from the window illuminates Sam's face, a bruise just barely visible on her skin. Melanie feels a rush of guilt, and she closes her eyes tightly and snuggles closer to her sister just as the sound of someone stomping down the stairs reaches her ears. A door slams below, and Melanie realizes that Sam was right. She's always right about these things.

Melanie doesn't know if Sam's still sleeping, but she's grateful that she doesn't hear any 'I told you so's' from her sister. She probably will tomorrow, but that's fine. A car peels out of the driveway, something shatters downstairs, and there in the dark, Melanie Puckett knows that she has to get out of this house and away from this family. She can't handle this. She's only eleven years old, but she already knows that the only reason that she can deal with any of this is because Sam's there. Without her, Melanie thinks that she'd be completely lost. But she'd still give anything for the chance to get away.