let the walls break down.

"Hey Puckett," Freddie greeted, stepping out onto the fire escape.

"What do you want Benson?" Sam snapped, facing away from him. She was looking out into the clear Seattle night, her gaze switching between the twinkling stars, and the high rise buildings that obscured her view of the stars.

It was quiet, calm, and after the craziness that had been their trip to LA, it was a nice change.

"I wanted to," Freddie paused. "Congratulate you on winning the rap battle. You were awesome Sam,"

"Well, it wasn't hard to beat a puppet." Sam leaned her head against the cool metal of the fire escape, the sensation soothing against the burning red of her skin. One compliment from Freddie Benson, and she turned into a tomato with blonde hair.

"I couldn't have done it."

"That's because you're a nub." Sam replied.

"Thanks Sam." Freddie laughed, looking at his shoes. His feet were firmly planted on the window sill of the fire escape, and he studied the fraying laces of his favourite converse as they sat, in silence.

"Why are you really here Benson?" Sam said after what felt like an eternity.

"I wanted to see how you were." Freddie said simply.

"I'm fine." Sam shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"For one, you wont even look at me." Freddie replied, fixing his gaze on the back of the blonde girl's head. That's how he always knew when something was up with his best friend. Sam never made eye contact if she was upset.

Sam spun around, and glared at him. Her blue eyes were icy, and and her expression had a hard edge to it. "Happy?" She demanded.

"I'm not here to force you to be happy Sam," Freddie sighed, swinging his legs down from the windowsill. "And I'm not here to make myself happy."

"Good, you can leave then."

"No." Freddie shook his head.

"Do you what me to pound your face in?" Sam's tone was angry.

"I want you to talk to me!" Freddie said. "Sam, you're my best friend. I just want to be there for you,"

"I'm not going to spill my guts to you Frednub."

"I'm not asking you to." Freddie said, and there was a long, pregnant pause.

"Can I tell you something Sam?" He asked finally.

"I'm guessing you're going to anyway." Sam said, hugging her knees closer to her chest.

Freddie barely heard her speak. "My dad left too." He said, his voice small. "When I was eight."

Sam just looked at him.

"He was this big shot businessman," Freddie continued. "And he was promoted when I was a baby, so we moved to Seattle. Turns out he'd been banging his secretary since he started working at the company here, and he left when I was eight."

Freddie ran a hand through his hair. "He just blurted it out one day at breakfast, and he never came back after that. He never tried to keep in contact either, the only time we ever heard from him was when he sent my mom the divorce papers."

"I looked him up, just to see what he was doing now." He said, remembering the night he had finally plucked up the courage to find out what his deadbeat dad was doing now. "He's married to some blonde bimbo, and he's got a whole new family and life in California."

Sam didn't react. She just sat, on the stairs, looking at Freddie.

"Look, I'm not telling you this because I'm looking for sympathy Sam." Freddie said. "My dad's a loser, and I don't want anyone to pity me because of it."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"Because I think it's better if you tell people." Freddie shrugged. "Kids like us, we build walls Sam. We build walls because we never want to have to go through the pain of knowing that someone you love walked out on you, when they could have stayed, again."

As Freddie spoke, Sam realised that they had more in common than she had ever known. He was basically describing the reasons why she was her, the aggressive, violent Sam with a don't care attitude towards just about everything.

"And I think we should let down those walls, for the right people." Freddie said, pausing for a second and letting his words linger. "Because it makes it easier."

"For the right people, huh?" Sam said, her tone pondering. "I guess you told Carly then."

"Actually," Freddie stood up, knowing he wouldn't get through to Sam, not tonight at least. "You're the first person I've ever told."

With that, he walked away, leaving Sam to stare at his retreating form.

You're the first person I've ever told.

Sam felt the beginnings of something warm and fuzzy in her chest as Freddie's parting words flashed across the front of her mind in ten foot, technicolour letters.

Freddie trusted her, trusted her enough to tell her his big secret.

He was right, she knew that much. She built walls, and one day, she'd let them down, for the right person- and that warm fuzzy feeling in her chest somehow told her that person was Freddie Benson.

FIN.

Author's Note; Hmm.. I'm not very happy with the ending, but I've already edited it to death. This is, obviously, based off Sam's line about her father from iParty With Victorious. I'd love to see Dan expand on that, but seeing as it's a Nick sitcom, I doubt that will happen.

This is set post iParty, pre iOMG in case you wanted to know. I should really be sleeping, but this has been bugging me since I saw iParty. Oh, if only there was going to be a question on fanfiction on maths paper two in the morning.

I didn't get a chance to post during the Cabal's mass posting last night, but I suppose this could be considered my belated contribution.

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