From the POV of Fredward Benson

I have been friends with Carly and Sam for a long time, well 'friends' is a very loose expression for my relationship with Sam Puckett. It is our senior year at Ridgeway High School, and the girls have had their share of relationships where as I, the technical producer of iCarly, have remained the eternal bachelor. Even Gibby had a girlfriend.

Recently Sam's behavior was worrying me; she was skipping school more often than not. She even ducked out of iCarly webcasts. This is the beginning of the downhill run.

"Sam? Sam? Will you answer you phone? Call me when you get this, you missed another iCarly"

I pressed the end call button on my pearpod and slid it into my pocket; I was really worried for Sam. I know she can take care of herself, but after that kiss on my fire escape a couple of years ago, I realized that I care for her. I might even dare to say I love her, not to her face, not yet. Gibby had become the semi-permanent co-host for the web show in her place, he and I had become members at an MMA gym when we started high school, and now he was less likely to ever wear a shirt. I had managed to keep the class a secret from my mom, although I don't know how long that will last.

Carly walked over to me, I used to have the biggest crush on her, but a man can only take so much rejection. "Have you heard from Sam? I'm worried" I just shook my head as Gibby stepped up behind Carly and wrapped his arms around her waist, enveloping her in a big hug. "It'll be okay Carls" He whispered into her ear.

Yes, I was rejected in favor of Gibby, but I am not bitter, I still have Sam. Or at least I hope so.

"No I haven't, why don't you two head to the Groovy Smoothie, I'll be there in a few minutes" Carly nodded her head and slowly walked out of the studio. I paced a few minutes; finally I resigned myself to finding Sam, despite the federal laws I had to break to do it. After I hacked into the cellphone carrier, it was easy enough to track Sam's phone, but the location didn't seem right. After covering my tracks and shutting my computer down, I left the studio. Grabbing my leather jacket from the back of the sofa, I saw Spencer in the kitchen, making a giant sculpture of Mr. Peanut, out of peanut butter.

"Fredddaayyy!" He shouted when he saw me, "Yes Spencer?"

"Grab me a smoothie?" I nodded and left before he could ask me anything else. I didn't have to go far, slipping into my apartment, and through my bedroom window, I knew where Sam was. On our fire escape, she had her back to me, legs through the railing and dangling over the alley below. "Sam "I said as softly as I could, kneeling behind her.

"I didn't know where else to go." Her voice was huskier than normal, as if she had been crying, and it took a lot to make this Puckett cry. I moved to her side and gently moved her face to look at me. Her eye was black, her lip busted, and a stream of blood coming down from her hairline. Her jeans were caked in dirt, and her yellow shirt was torn and smeared in blood.

"It's okay" I wrapped my arms around her, her forehead resting on my chest. She winced noticeable, when I touched her left side. "Come on inside" She moved slowly back into my room, I turned down the bed and laid her in it, taking her shoes off and leaving them beside the bed. Retrieving one of the thirty first aid kits my mother kept in our apartment, I treated the head wound, not much I could do for the rest. Sam eventually closed her eyes, "I love you Sam." I whispered as I kissed her forehead and stood up, "And I'm going to get the guy who did this" I pulled off my blue polo shirt, which was now smeared in a little bit of blood.

I changed into a black tee shirt, turning around for one last look at the girl sleeping in my bed. I steeled my resolve and exited my room, closing the door as softly as I could. I pulled out my phone and sent a quick message to Carly.

:: Carls, headed out for a little bit, you mind grabbing Spencer a smoothie and looking after Sam? She's in my room ::

:: Sure, but why is she in you room? ::

I didn't respond to the next message, instead pushing my phone into the front pocket of my blue jeans and headed out to the parking garage. As I approached my car I chuckled, it was the only thing that seemed to impress Sam about me. The silver metallic finish was smooth, and the twin black racing stripes and nearly as dark windows caused many a bated breath when I thundered into school. I slid behind the wheel and forced myself a deep breath, now where am I going to find that slime-ball that Sam was dating?