This was inspired by bandgrad2008's YoYo. Well...loosely inspired. So, if things are a little...off factual wise, know that I've only seen like four to twelve episodes of iCarly. Just saying. Please review and tell me what you think! Oh, there's also a quick reference to The Client List so don't think I stole that from anywhere.
She's my everything. She's my sun, my moon, my happiness, my sadness. She's…no, 'angel' is too cliché. She's more than an angel; she's tough, strong…stronger than I'd ever hope to be. She's not the brightest girl out there, but that's what makes her special; she doesn't care about her own intellect or mine. She makes me work to be more than just a brain, to be more than just the tech nerd she picks on in school. I lost her twice before, and it's three strikes you're out.
I can't let anything happen to her.
It's been…ten years since I've seen her face. It's been ten whole years since I've seen that blonde hair fly around as she chased me through the halls of our old high school. It's been ten long years since I've looked into those shining brown eyes. I left those eyes, that hair, that girl back home when I went away for college. She stayed home, even when Carly went away, and I never heard from her again. I just…I couldn't stay in Seattle; I needed to leave. I tried—begged with my life—to make her come with me, but she refused.
I…I never should have left her.
I'm…I was lonely without her. I met so many girls down in UCLA, but they were never her. I couldn't be with them; I didn't want them. I've made mistakes in my life—Lord knows she has too—but there's a tie for the biggest: letting her walk out of my life even though she lived right across the hall, and walking out of her life into another state.
She's calling me back now. She's calling me home.
Pick up the phone! Stop staring at that old picture of us and pick up the phone, man!
"H…hello?" I stammer; my voice cracks for the first time in twelve years. At first, all is silent on her end of the line. If not for the sound of cheap elevator music in the background, I would have thought she'd called and hung up.
"Fredward…"
The hairs on the back of my neck stiffen. I haven't heard that name in six years; I haven't heard her say it in eleven.
"Are you there?"
I shake away the shock of her voice. "Y-yeah," I sputter. God, what do I say to her? I…I've already messed it up! I'm such a spaz…
"When…when are you coming home?"
I open my mouth and start choking on air; she wants me home? Crap! She…she wants me home and I don't know how to react! "I…I'm getting off a bus now," I tell her. "I'll be at my mom's in ten minutes. Is everything okay?"
"Linda, hurry up," a loud woman's voice barks, "Your break's almost over!"
"Listen, Freddie, I gotta go," she breathes barely above a whisper. "I'm at work right now, and I get off at six. Your mom won't be home then will she? I-I really need to see you again."
I check my watch and sigh. I have to wait three hours until I can see her. Well, I've waited ten years to see her again; hopefully these next three hours won't kill me. "I can't wait," I tell her with a small smile she can't see.
"I lo…Later, Fredward."
My breath hitches. She—no, she wouldn't. I can't get caught up on this again. What if things turn out wrong again? I can't let myself fall under her spell again. I need to…I need to get home to my mom, to give her a hug and a kiss like I do every visit. Maybe this time I'll visit Spencer; maybe Carly will be home. Maybe she can help me out, to lead me in the right direction.
As I make my way down the sidewalk, I start to feel lightheaded. Then I realize…I've been holding my breath since she uttered those words. I let out all my held air in a loud exhale and reach out to hold onto something for support. Luckily, a light pole is there for me, but I wasn't there for her…
I could have—should have—been there for her, to help her with the mess we made, but I left. She said her place was here in Seattle, but I was selfish; I wanted to live for myself and for her to run away with me.
I was so stupid…
The next ten minutes are a blur. All I can think about is her blonde hair against my skin, her deep brown eyes boring into my own, the way her body fit into every crevice of my own… I'm nothing more than a coward. I ran when things got too tough. But now I've gotta be there for her, even if she doesn't want me to be. I can't run away anymore; I can't be a coward.
I arrive back to my mom's apartment building and I walk through the familiar lobby. I sign in at the familiar desk with the familiar jerk wad desk jockey yelling at me. Then I climb the familiar stairs. When I realize I've got too many things to carry, I climb down those familiar stairs and step onto the familiar elevator.
Push the familiar eighth floor button.
Walk down the familiar hall.
Stand in front of the familiar 8 D sign.
Knock on the familiar door.
I've lived in this familiar place for eighteen years and I've visited this familiar apartment so many times during my four years at UCLA. No matter how many times I've walked up and down this hallway, creeped around this apartment, done my routines, this place doesn't feel like home anymore. I did everything I could, but I made my home wherever she was.
I left my home ten years ago.
I move my hand to knock on the door when I hear a child's laughter. The door rips open and a little brunette girl loses her smile as her head rises to look at me in shock. Instead of calling out to an adult like a normal little girl would, she takes her fist and throws it into my crotch. I groan loudly and double over in pain as the little girl backs away. I hear my mom gasp in fright as her heels furiously click over the ground.
"Freddie," she exclaims. "Oh my gosh! Clarissa, I told you not to hit the boy in my photos!" The little girl—Clarissa—giggles and runs behind my mother. Mom puts her hand on Clarissa's shoulders and puts her other hand against her own mouth. "Come inside, sweetie, and I'll get you some ice for your no-no area."
"Mom," I croak out as I hobble into the apartment. "I'm twenty eight. You can stop calling it my 'no-no area.'" My mother scoffs as she leads Clarissa into the kitchen. "There is a nine-year old present, Freddie," she reminds me, "Therefore it will be called your 'no-no area.'" Clarissa huffs slightly. "I'm almotht ten!" she cries with a small lisp.
I had a lisp until I was thirteen…
I continue to hobble until I reach the couch. Then I fall onto it and curl up into the fetal position, groaning out in pain. My mother hands me a bag of hypoallergenic ice moments later. "I'm so glad you're home, Freddie," she tells me. "I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you too," I cough out. "She…really has a right hook on her." Clarissa jumps over the couch and onto my side, causing another pained grunt out of me. "My mama taught me," she tells me in excitement. I laugh nervously. "And who's your 'mama,' Clarissa?" I inquire as she starts to bounce on my side.
Soon the bouncing stops and I hear light feet hit the ground. "Why don't you go read one of the books your mother bought you, Clarissa?" my mom questions. With a loud huff, Clarissa stomps away. "You neber let me hear your growed up tawk," she whines before she slams the door.
Slowly, I sit up on Mom's plastic covered couch, keeping the ice pack in place. I look down at my hands, at the engagement ring on my left finger. "She's my…"
"Daughter," Mom finishes for me. My back stiffens. The world stops moving. No sounds fill the air. My heart starts beating loudly in my chest and I feel like it's going to beat out onto the coffee table in front of me. She…she said she…didn't want the baby, that she would take care of it. I told her I couldn't handle a child…and she told me she would get rid of it if I stayed. But I couldn't! I couldn't wake up next to her every morning and see the pain on her face. I couldn't bear to see the pain I'd caused her. I left her after she said she took care of it, after I couldn't bear to be there with her and hold her hand while she did it. But then I couldn't stay because I knew the knowing that she had that baby—our baby—inside her had changed her. Then I made her take away that change?
I'm so stupid!
"Why haven't I seen her before?"
Out of the millions of questions racing through my mind, that was the first and only question I could actually say…
"You haven't seen Samantha in ten years," my mother reminds me, saying the name I haven't heard in ten, tiring years. "What makes you think she'd let you see her daughter?" Those words…spark something in me. I shoot up off the couch and drop the ice pack. "Her daughter?" I repeat. I point at the room Clarissa ran off to. "That little girl—Clarissa—she's our daughter! She's not just mine and she's not just S—"
I…can't bring myself to say her name. I…can't…
I turn away from my mom and move around the couch. I dart to Clarissa's room and push the door open to find her ripping up a coloring book on the floor. Her back is to me and her curly brown hair spins as she does so. Those little brown eyes of hers stop me in my tracks; they're so much like her mother's.
"Hey, mithter, what'th wrong?" she questions. She's missing her two front teeth. Tears start to fall from my eyes; she's the spitting image of her mother…
Shakily, I fall to my knees and she backs away from me. "Watch it you creep!" she screams. Part of me wants to fall backwards and lean my head against the door to cry a little more, but I can't do that. I need to tell her.
I take in a deep breath and look her in her little brown eyes. "Clarissa," I start softly. "Did…did your mommy ever tell you who your daddy was?" Clarissa shakes her head and moves behind the bedpost in the room. "Mama thaid he got eated by jellyfith," she informs me. That's classic S—she always did come up with the craziest lies.
I chuckle softly. "Your mama," I begin, "Well…she didn't…I…"
"Thpit it out!" Clarissa screams as she throws a stuffed animal missing its head at me. I catch it in my hands right before it hits my head and sigh, holding the headless toy in my lap. How do you tell a nine year old girl that her mother lied to her and her father is sitting right in front of her?
"Your daddy wasn't eaten by jellyfish," I correct her with a small smile. "He wathn't?" she questions with a wide hopeful smile. I shake my head slowly. "I'm…your daddy," I finally say. Clarissa stares at me with an open mouth and falls backward onto her butt. I shoot to my feet and race up to her, picking her up off the floor and holding her tightly. Her small hands press against my arms then move up as far as they can around my neck. Her body starts shaking as she lets out small cries. I hold her a little tighter as I sit down on my old bed and I rub her back.
I have a little girl…
Once she stops crying, Clarissa fills the air with hundreds of questions. Where was I? Why didn't I visit? Why didn't I send letters or try to talk to her? Do I love her? Do I love her mom? Why did I leave? Well, I was at college. I did visit, but her mother never wanted to see me and didn't want me to see her; I didn't even know we had a daughter. I sent letters and even tried to talk to her mother through Carly, but she always refused. It didn't matter if I'd only known her for a short while; I loved her. I loved her mother as well, and that's part of the reason I left; I thought she would be better without me…
A million more questions spew from my daughter's—God, I never thought I'd say that—lispy little mouth and before I know it, my mother's walking into the room fixing her pearl earrings. She's wearing a floor-length purple gown that—ew!—hugs her curves and expresses a low-cut neckline. I shield my eyes with my hand. "Oh, God, Mom," I cry out. "You couldn't wear a coat."
"Oh hush, Freddie," she says. "I'm allowed to dress however I want. You are twenty-eight years old; seeing your mother show some extra skin is the least of your worries." I scowl but keep my eyes covered.
"You look thpiffy, Mith Benthon," Clarissa compliments. At least she isn't rude like—
"I'm going out," Mom announces. "I was going to wait for Samantha to get home before I left, but you're here and I trust you can look after your own daughter without damaging anything." I roll my eyes after lowering my hand. "Of course I can, Mom," I tell her. "Go have fun on your date." My mom smiles and walks over to me to pinch my cheeks and kiss me on the forehead; I can just feel the lipstick marks on my head. Clarissa giggles softly, an adorable little sound. "I love you and I'll be home around midnight," she says. "Stay safe," I breathe.
Mom leaves and Clarissa and I start playing dolls when we hear keys jingling in the door. I freeze, but Clarissa's head snaps to my bedroom's door. "Mommy home, Mommy home!" she exclaims as she jumps off the bed and runs out the room. She laughs slightly and I hear Clarissa squeal. I don't move; I can't. Even as she speaks, I can't move…
"Hey, baby," she greets. I hear her kiss our daughter. God, it feels…it feels amazing to say that little girl, that precious little baby, is the pinnacle of my love for the blonde goddess in my old living room.
"Have you met Mama's friend yet?"
"He'th in hith room! Daddy!"
Two feet hit the ground and come stumbling into my room. Mechanically, my head turns to her as her tiny hands grab one of my own. "Come on, come on!" she begs loudly. I force a weak smile and stand up. I barely have a chance to breathe when she starts pulling me along. My heart beats loudly in my chest; again, I feel like it's going to beat right out of my chest and onto my shoes.
The only thing louder than my heart pounding is the sound of two reluctant heels moving across the floor.
I see that blonde, curly hair first. It's…shorter now, barely longer than Clarissa's.
Then I see her face…
Her skin is tired, though she's trying to force a smile. Her lips are a little fuller, painted ruby red. She's taller, but that's because of her three inch high heels. She's still in her tomboy state of mind, wearing jeans and regular shirts, but they look looser on her. She looks…smaller…
Clarissa continues to pull me until she's between me and…Sam…
Clarissa says something, but I don't hear it. …Sam…bends down to pick her up, but she keeps her eyes locked on mine. Her eyes are a little less brighter but still…so powerful. She…she doesn't say anything as she closes the distance between us. She grabs my face with one hand and crashes her lips against my own. Those same old sparks ignite on our lips and I feel her stealing my breath away like she used to do.
But something's changed…
"Get a room," Clarissa groans. I almost forgot she was sitting on her mother's hip…
I quickly back away from Sam as she touches her lips gently. "I missed you," she breathes. "I missed you, too," I whisper. "I mithed you more!" Clarissa declares. Sam and I laugh a little too loudly. God, I missed her laugh. I missed the sound of her chiming laughter filling the air.
Before I know it, it's eight o' clock and Sam's phone rings. She puts Clarissa down and takes her phone from her purse. "Hello?" she calls out. I hear indistinct talking on the other end, but I can't make it out. "It's about time!" Sam exclaims with a wide grin. "Yeah, he's right here. We'll be over in a minute. See you then." She hangs up her phone and puts it in her purse. She stands up and picks up our little girl. "Come on, Fredward," she orders as she makes her way to the door. "It's time to take this little one home." She pinches Clarissa's cheek with a smile as she speaks. Clarissa giggles and pushes her mother's hand away.
I follow Sam as she makes her way out the door. We venture the distance across the hall to Carly's old apartment and make our way inside. "I brought company, Carls!" Sam exclaims loudly. I sigh contently; it's just like the old days.
Carly left when I did; when you get a full scholarship to the college of your dreams in Tacoma, who wouldn't leave? But unlike me, Carly wasn't selfish. After she got her degree, she came back home while I went out to bigger technical productions. Carly and I both realized our home was here in Seattle, but I was too scared to come home…
I talked to Carly a few times over the years and she's not changed too much. She's still happy as ever and she says she still looks the same, but she always sound so worried about Sam. At the times…I didn't want to deal with it; I was still a coward and I couldn't…deal…
As soon as we step into the room, Carly rushes to me and hugs me tightly. "I missed you," she whispers warmly in my ear. "I missed you too, Carly," I respond. Then she pulls away from me and takes Clarissa from Sam. "Hello, little Cherry Blossom," she greets. Clarissa giggles and wants to say something back to Carly when a yawn takes over. She opens her mouth really wide and nods her head back, letting out a small squeak as her hair fans out behind her…just like her mother does…
Carly taps her on the nose. "Looks like it's past your bedtime, little one," she announces. Clarissa shakes her head. "I don't wanna!" she defies. Carly chuckles and turns to take her to Spencer's old room. "I'm just gonna put her to bed so you and Freddie can be alone, Sam," she announces as she walks away.
Sam laces her fingers into mine as Carly ascends the stairs. We wait until we hear a distant door close before we move to the couch.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask as I look into her deep brown eyes. Time has hollowed them out.
"I didn't know how. I was heartbroken when you left me. I…I could see in your eyes ten years ago that you were still gonna go after I 'took care of things.' I…couldn't lose our baby if I was just gonna lose you anyway. I knew I would have pictures and our old webcasts together, but those were different than a living and breathing smaller version of you and me. I wanted to tell you about Clarissa, that we had a little girl and I gave her the name you always wanted to give your daughter, but I couldn't. Then before I knew it, four years passed and Carly came home. When you didn't, you broke what I was trying to fix in my heart. When you tried to write to me and talk to me through Carly, I…got so angry."
Sam looks away from me and takes in a deep breath before turning back to me. "Carly's…tried to help," she tells me, "Even Spencer too, but I'm still doing this alone. I just…I can't do this by myself anymore. I need you to be here for me, for our daughter." She grabs my hands tightly. "Please stay with us, Freddie."
I take one of my hands from hers and place it on her neck, underneath her shorter hair. Slowly I lean into her and place my forehead onto hers. "Always," I breathe. I place a small kiss onto her lips. When I go to pull away from her, she pulls me back in and kisses me deeper, pressing her body against my own. Eventually, she pushes be down onto the couch and lies on top of me, refusing to pull her lips from mine.
She pulls her body off mine slightly to take her shirt off when her phone starts ringing in her purse again. She mutters a curse word under her breath and fixes her shirt as she pulls her phone out and answers it.
"This better be important," she hisses. This time, I can hear the person on the other end of the line. "If you wanna keep your job then you'll get your ass here!" they spit. They hang up before anything else can be said and Sam sighs loudly as she puts her phone back into her purse.
She turns to me with saddened eyes. "I'm really sorry," she apologizes, "But I've gotta go. My boss needs me." I nod solemnly. "I'll be waiting."
And wait I did…
I waited for hours on end, but she never came back home. Around midnight, Carly came downstairs. I was on the verge of falling asleep when she put her hand on my shoulder. "If she's not home now," she began, "She's not coming back for the night." So I gave Carly I hug and I tip-toed upstairs to give Clarissa a kiss on the forehead before I trudged to my old home.
I go to turn the knob, when my soft touch pushes the door open. The lights are out and it's dead silent. "Mom?" I call out. "Are you home?" I reach out for the lights, but they don't flip on. I flip the switch a few times, but nothing happens. I hear a small groan and fear washes over me. "Mom?" I call out in a panic. Shakily, I reach for my phone and unlock it so I can use it as a light.
I see feet hanging on the side of the couch, barely illuminated by my cell. "Mom!" I cry as I rush toward her. I end up bumping my shin against a couch-side table and I turn my phone just as the lamp on it is about to fall. Luckily I grab it before it hits the ground. My hands fumble for the little turn-switch and after two deafening clicks, the light turns on. I don't see a long purple dress…
"Sam!"
No, no, no, no, no! I rush to her and gently pat her on the face, splashing blood onto my hands. She's passed out on my couch and there's dried blood all over her mouth and shirt. One of her sleeves is rolled up and there's a yellow tourniquet wrapped around the middle of her arm. There's a small prick underneath the tourniquet with a small stream of blood trailing down her arm to the length of her middle finger.
There's an empty syringe on the floor…
I drop my phone in a frenzy and I feel the tears falling from my face. "Wake up!" I scream as I continue to shake her. "Please…"
With shattered breaths, I snatch my phone off the ground. I scream loudly because I broke the screen when I dropped it. With an angered scream, I throw my phone at the wall by the fireplace. I spot Sam's purse by the couch below her head and I grab it, throwing things left and right in search of her phone.
Then I find it.
Christ, there's a lock code! I only have four chances to get it right…
I try her birthday, but it doesn't work. I try…I try our high school graduation, but that's not it either. I try our old anniversary, but that doesn't work either. Finally I try the day I left…
It…works…
God, I can't think about this right now. I quickly press 911 on the phone, completely forgetting you don't need a lock code to make emergency phone calls.
"911, what is your emergency?"
"My…my fiancé…she-God I need an ambulance!"
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down and tell me your address."
"Don't tell me to calm down! Just send someone to apartment 8 D of the Bushwell Plaza. Please hurry!"
I don't remember if the woman on the other line said anything. I don't even remember hanging up the phone. But I do remember picking Sam up into a sitting position and holding her as I cried on her shoulder. I remember clinging to her for dear life, even as my mother came home. I don't remember hearing her scream or feeling her hand on my shoulders. I don't even remember Carly coming in.
All I remember is clinging to Sam tightly, listening to her deathly slow heartbeat. The tears flowed but I tried to stifle my sobs. I tried to drown the world out, to flush away the sound of blaring sirens and the paramedics screaming at me, to listen to only her.
They…they had to pull me away from her once we got in the ambulance; I think they said they needed to check her, but I only wanted her in my arms. She was getting cold when I held her, and I only wanted to make her warm again. I held her hand though. No matter what, I held her hand. I couldn't let her go…
The world spun around us in a blur as they carried Sam on a gurney into ICU. They…made me wait outside; they wouldn't let me be with her. They wouldn't let me be around her. I just…I had to stay in the waiting room.
I sit the whole time with my head in my hands just waiting. It's been ten years since I've seen her, since I've kissed her, since I've held her in my arms… Now she's about to be ripped away from me again. I promised I wouldn't leave her again; I promised! This isn't fair! I know I made a mistake, but I came back to her. I came back to make things right with her! Even if I had to structure my life around our daughter, I'm going to do it. Fate is so cruel!
Carly arrives ten minutes after I do, but I don't look back up at her. "Freddie," she breathes as she sits beside me. She places her hand on my back and rubs it softly. "She's gonna be okay…"
I shy away from her and a sob escapes me. I sniffle with a shuddering breath. "I…found a syringe," I inform her. "Was…was this the first time?" There's a long pause before Carly finally sighs out. "No," she breathes. "Sam…almost overdosed three years ago. Clarissa found her, too, and we almost lost her. She said she started after I came back from college, but she said she was gonna stop. Her job's been pretty hard on her lately…"
I lift my head and rest it on Carly's shoulder. "I need to see her," I sigh out. Carly sniffles and rubs my back again. "I know," she breathes. As she rubs my back, one thought lingers in my head.
"Where does she work? Her…her boss called her 'Linda.'"
Carly groans. "I don't think I should be the one to tell you," she says. I roll my eyes and sit up, looking Carly dead in the eye. "Tell me," I growl. I know it's bad, and I know it's my fault, but I want to know what it is.
"She works at a massage clinic," Carly tells me. I groan loudly and a secretary shushes me. "You shush!" I hiss. I turn back to Carly. "There's more, isn't there?" I ask tiredly. She nods slowly. "It's a clinic that offers…extras."
I let out a loud, pained wail and hunch over in my seat, resting my head on my knees and covering it with my hands. This is my fault! It's my fault she's doing…that!
"Sir, you need to—"
"Hey!" Carly shouts loudly. "His girlfriend is in ICU because of a near fatal overdose and he hasn't seen her in ten years. On top of all that, he's got a nine and a half year old daughter at home that he just met who doesn't know her mother's had a relapse! And me, I'm tired because it's one o'clock in the morning and I worked a long ten hour shift today. If I were you I'd shut my mouth and get back to typing!"
The secretary gives a small, terrified squeak and I hear furious clicking on a keyboard as I let out a deeply saddened sob.
Then a doctor comes out and calls my name…