A/N Hey, to everyone who has taken the time out of there day to read this! I wrote this a year ago with my beta and I saw a lot of potential in it, but I wanted to get back to it when I felt like I could write it well enough. I didn't want to rush it just so I could post it. I wanted to do the best I could, but anyways If you have already read this chapter I'd advise you read it again! A few little changes have been made, because when I originally read this chapter I felt like I could write things out better than before. Thanks for reading, feedback is 100% appreciated always :)
"Carly, please, I just want something to drink," Sam laid on the couch, with her arm over her eyes, trying to keep the light from making her head hurt even worse.
"Sam, I called Freddie. He's coming over to make sure you don't die. I have to go to work..." Carly buzzed about the living room, trying to collect her belongings while pulling her left shoe on at the same time.
Sam whined, "I don't want that nub here. Why can't you just call that stupid place you work at and tell them you have an emergency and can't come in?"
Carly rolled her eyes, "You know as well as I do that if I tell them no one more time, I will have no job... And no job means I can't afford my half of the rent to stay here, so that is not an option, Sam. Freddie can handle it and you'll be fine, okay?"
Sam sighed exasperatedly, "Fine. Have fun at work, Cupcake."
"Yeah, try and make sure Freddie is in one piece when I come home, okay?" Carly shot Sam one more pleading look, grabbed her purse, and she was out the door.
Sam sighed in defeat, realizing that she never did get her drink and now there was no one there but her. She began to face the realization that she was going to die on this lumpy, sunken couch and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her head began to hurt worse and it wasn't long before that pain migrated to her stomach, causing a violent storm to rage inside of her stomach, effectively making her nauseous.
She suppressed the urge to throw up that morning's chicken noodle soup Carly had made her and she slid the blanket back up her arms, deciding to get some rest before Carly would come back.
That's when she heard the door open.
"Sam?" Freddie closed the door with one hand as he used his other to set the bag of various medications down on the couch. "Hey, I brought you medicine, as ordered by Carly."
Sam groaned as she sat up, "She made you? Well, thanks, nub, I appreciate that. Give it here," She reached out her hand to take the bag that was just out of her reach. "Where are your manners, Fredlumps? Shoes. Take them off."
Freddie smirked as he untied his shoes, "Yes, ma'am. So just how sick are you?" He sat down on the edge of the couch.
"I feel horrible," She unscrewed the lid off the bottle of pills, her other hand never leaving her stomach. "Can you get me something to drink?"
"Sure," Freddie quickly got up and made his way to the kitchen cupboard, pulling out a glass to put water in. "You know, Sam, tea would probably help too," he hollered over his shoulder as he turned the faucet off.
"Well, then make me some, Freddie! Oh, my stomach hurts," Sam moaned from the couch, "Hurry it up in there would ya?!"
Freddie rolled his eyes as he began filling the glass with water, "My, you're demanding when you're sick. Oh no, wait, that's a normal thing."
Sam mocked him and scowled, "I didn't ask you to come here, Fredducini, so I'd watch your step."
"What are you gonna do? Beat me up?" Freddie laughed as he put a tea bag in the glass and put it in the microwave, turning it on.
"Maybe," Sam crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the couch. She glanced at the coffee table and sighed; the remote was just out of reach. Sam was noticing a theme with her not being able to reach things and she growled.
"Here is your tea, Sam," Freddie held the drink out to her and held back a smirk when he noticed her deep grimace, "What's the matter?"
"I can't reach the remote," Sam pouted, making her look like a small child.
"Oh," Freddie chuckled and picked up the remote for her, "What do you want to watch?" He sat down beside her, pulling her legs over his lap.
Sam rested her head back against the arm of the couch and sighed, "I don't care."
Freddie's eyebrows furrowed and he looked at her in concern, his hands absentmindedly rubbing her bare legs, "You must feel really bad, huh?"
"Freddie, I feel worse than the time that icky chick Missy gave me that rancid chocolate." Sam coughed and threw her arm over her head. She'd rather spend a whole day doing math assignments, then be sick as a dog, having to let Freddie of all people take care of her.
"I'm sorry sweetie. I hate seeing you like this. When Carly called me this morning she didn't tell me it was that bad." He rubbed his thumb alongside her little knee cap, and then suddenly stopped when he saw the look on Sam's face.
"Sweetie? Freddie we've been through this," she stopped to cough again into her right elbow "I know you're here taking care of me and chiz, and it's honestly very nice of you. But I don't want us to slide back into things like before, okay nub?"
Freddie nodded and cleared his throat. It had gotten a little awkward for the both of them, the last few months. They decided that breaking up was for the best. When they had went out before it was too weird and unnatural, everything had seemed forced. It wasn't really them, not even close and they needed space and time to sort everything out. But Freddie still thought about her every night and Sam hadn't dated anyone since the breakup. Her excuse was because nobody was good enough, but the real reason was because all those guys that had asked her out weren't Freddie. The boy she still cared about, and the guy she still infact had feelings for. But they both agreed they just wouldn't work out, and whatever connection they had wasn't meant to be romantic.
This was the first time in so long they'd actually were completely alone with each other, and they both knew this was bound to come up. The relationship.
Their friendship? Whatever they were now didn't matter. He was tired of ignoring the past, the elephant in the room, because he still loved her.
"Why don't you go get some rest in your bed. I'll be out here till Carly comes back." He suggested. He'd forgotten for a split second why he was here in the first place. He'd rather deal with their relationship later, when she wasn't coughing up everything but blood.
"No," Sam lifted her head, slid up the couch and laid down-her head now in Freddie's lap "I'm fine right here" she murmured already feeling her eyes get heavy with sleep.
"Oh okay well I'm-" Freddie started to lift himself off the couch.
"Stay." She whispered. Pressing her palm lightly onto his chest.
Freddie remembered the last time Sam had laid her head on his lap like this, and it made him smile. But he was also taken aback by this random affection she was portraying. Not that he protested, he'd enjoy it while it lasted "Okay."
"I'm sorry I'm not being any fun today. I haven't caused you trouble for hours now," Sam laughed halfheartedly.
"Well, you're excused for today. You're sick remember?" He grabbed her glass of water, "maybe you should drink a little more. My mom always made me drink a lot of fluids when I was sick."
Sam turned on her back slowly in Freddie's lap and sat up. "Thanks." She took the glass from Freddie and sipped the water down. "How's your mom doing?" She met his gaze.
His mom had been dating some gold digger for the last year or so and Freddie hated it. Marissa had always been up his ass when he was growing up, telling him to do this or that or making sure he didn't have any ticks or something crazy. But ever since she'd been dating her new guy, George the home wrecker, he barely spoke to his mom. He'd admit He missed her being down his back, because she was always there, now her life had become all about her boyfriend.
"Fine," Freddie rolled his eyes,
"Still bat hat crazy?"
"Yeah, something like that."
Sam finished the last of her water and sat it down on the coffee table, "I'm just worried about the woman, that's all. I barely hear you talk about her."
"That's because I barely see her myself. She's always working, or running off with Mr. Lame guy." Freddie explained, easing her head back down onto his lap.
"Why are you being so nice to me Fredhead? this just doesn't seem like you to put up with me for a day. Taking care of me and not complaining about it" She yawned and clutched his wrist "thank you Freddie. For taking care of me."
"Even if you hate to admit it, we're friends, Sam. This is what friends do,"
"Friends...right, we're Friends" Sam closed her eyes and finally felt like she was comfortable enough to sleep. Freddie wrapped his arms around her and stared down at her face. he smiled at the thought of how she was laying in his arms. He had forgotten how much he cared for this girl. If only he could find the words to tell her, but until then he make sure she was taken care of. He'd enjoy this moment, even if it were for a little while.
"Yep."