Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, I did make up the storyline. I write short chapter fics and never update unless I get reviews, which I crave...otherwise I assume people are uninterested and move on to the next project. Read and Review, and I welcome the flames if that's what you feel you need to do! This fic will be pure Creddie, and nothing more inappropriate will happen in it than in the actual show itself. Alright then, enjoy! WAIT! There are two songs which inspired this fic, which will be a very military fic indeed. If you have not heard them before, please check out Yo Side of the Bed by Trey Songz (be prepared to cry) found here .com/watch?v=xPd4Qp-Pdew, and Letters from War (at which point you may cry harder) .com/watch?v=uuvbBwsMTgI
PROLOGUE
Carly lay in a crumpled heap on Freddie's bed. She hadn't looked at anything other than her reflection in his large bay window for the better part of three hours, having far surpassed the need to blink. She had memorized every line on her face, could draw a diagram of her blood shot eyes so accurately Garmin would look bad, practically see grey hairs as they formed. Her vision came in and out of focus, but she stared for the blurry times, when her features blended together so perfectly she could clearly see her father's features in her own.
CHAPTER 1
Four hours ago, in the dead of night, Carly Shay awoke to a knock at the door. Spencer was backpacking through some South-American forest with Socko, and while Carly wouldn't typically answer the door when home alone, something about the curtness of the knock, the singular, resonating surety of it, compelled her to leave the warm nest she had created in the center of her bed. She had stood on her bare tip-toes to cautiously peer through the peep-hole, and nearly choked on her own breath when she glimpsed the six stacked stripes proudly displayed on the blue sleeves of her visitor. He held his hat over his heart, a remorseful look on his otherwise unremarkable face. She frantically fumbled to unhinge the locks, she knew them by memory but now it was as if she was working with all thumbs. She grasped the doorknob with clammy hands and twisted it, if she hadn't gotten out of bed could she have kept the news to come at bay?
The visitor wore twelve ribbons impeccably aligned with a small cross badge just above them. The silver name tag on his chest read "Wilkers" in blue lettering. He looked tired, weary. She couldn't claim that he moved his lips as he talked. She couldn't repeat what he said. She didn't need to listen to know what was coming. She had been dreading this moment her entire life. Her father had been killed in action.
Carly shoved past the suit, obliterating his solemn blue eyes from her memory. Her legs were numb, weak. She could barely walk. She began to fall forward when the door to Freddie's apartment swung open. She hadn't realized this was where she had been planning to go. She couldn't say how Freddie knew she needed him at that precise moment in the dead of night. She collapsed into his open arms, sobbing vehemently. Within seconds his shirt was soaked through. Freddie wrapped an arm around her waist and hooked the other under her knees, carrying her back through the threshold like a small child, leaving the apologetic Tech Sergeant behind.