This started off as a drabble but it morphed in my head and now I have no choice but to turn it into a full fledged story. This is my first time publishing anything on here so feel free to leave any and all feedback. Just a little warning, Sam is eighteen in this, so no illegal stuff will be going down. I just couldn't resist, I've always liked me some Spencer/Sam.
Carly's always yearned for someplace far to go, far away from Seattle. She knew she'd end up at someplace like NYU or Cornell. Brown. She has the grades, and she knows Freddie will continue to push that it is in fact a good thing, convincing her to just go ahead and just GO. Leave Seattle and Spencer and Sam and monotony and similarity behind. But leaving Spencer seems almost impossible and Sam just forget it, she can't bear to imagine the affect her absence would have on him. Her. Them. His only friends are Socko and Socko's grandmother, and really, how much company could they provide? And Sam, well, Carly would say she qualifies as Sam's best and really only friend. Freddie is still just a co-worker, but she cares for him, even a little, but would never eat another fat cake again in her life than admit it. Her and Freddie are always there, the three of them doing everything together, even when Sam requested that Freddie run along and play with his nerd gadgets or just plan get out of her sight. The point is it's the three of them, the iCarly trio, and if we're being honest, how would any of them get by without one another? Well, the house would be a ghost town. Carly and Spencer were used to coming home and somebody being there, whether it be Freddie watching Celebrities Under Water on their couch greeting them with a smile or Sam with her head stuck in the fridge requesting meat. Spencer could make as many jokes as he wanted about Sam and Freddie living there and never going home, but he loves it. The more she thinks about it, it makes her sad to think her twenty nine year old brother really has no friends his own age, though she knows it's all his personality's doing. Crazy sculptures? Drinking milk in the shower? Duck boxers? The beavecoon? Really? She always was and is the adult in the house, telling him he has to lay off the all night pak-rat sessions (damn whoever invented the internet version,) and she swears if she finds one more hair on the milk carton, she will explode. Is it so much to ask for hairless milk?
She'll go, she knows she will. She loves Seattle and Spencer and Sam but won't miss the rain or never being able to find the tape or having her wallet "inspected" and suspiciously being twenty dollars short. She craves her own life and will visit when she can and call everyday, she promises. The only good thing is they'll have each other. Two outcasts. An kooky artist and a misunderstood firecracker. And they'll be okay. She can make it on her own, there was never any question, and they can make it on their own... together. They have each other, after all.