The following night, Tuesday, was iCarly rehearsal. Freddie debated with himself for hours in front of his bedroom mirror whether to show up or not. He decided, against his better judgement, to show up and make an attempt to be a little more...Freddie-ish. Better to be distracted with iCarly than to sit at home with an unending supply of things to think about.

He sighed and emerged from his room. "Mom, I'm going to Carly's," he called, not knowing whether or not his mother was home. To be honest, he genuinely hoped she wasn't.

Mrs. Benson appeared in the kitchen door. Just my luck, he thought, sighing internally.

"You...you what?" she asked with an air of confusion.

"I said, I'm going to Carly's."

"But...why?" his mother was either thoroughly confused or thoroughly shocked.

"Because iCarly rehearsal is tonight," he replied without much enthusiasm.

"Oh," she said. "Ok. Um...don't stay over there too late." She immediately picked up her usual overprotective tone.

"'Kay. See you later."

Freddie walked out the front door feeling horribly guilty. Had he really changed so much that his own mother was surprised when he left the house?

He knocked on Carly's door, and let himself in when no one answered. "Carly?" he said. "Sam?" They were no where in sight.

"They're upstairs," Spencer called from somewhere to his right. "They started about a half hour ago."

"But rehearsal always starts at six," Freddie called back.

"I guess they changed it," came the reply. At least Spencer wasn't talking to him like he'd grown three extra appendages.

"Oh. Ok. I'll go ahead up then."

Freddie was halfway up the stairs when Spencer said, "They'll be glad you decided to come. I am."

He looked down and saw Spencer standing at the foot of the stairs. Freddie didn't know what to say, so he tried a smile that felt more like a grimace and started back up the stairs. He saw Spencer shake his head slightly as he rounded the corner.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam was standing in front of the little tech station up in the iCarly studio, watching video clips. Carly was down in her room doing who-knows-what. They were supposed to start rehearsal about half an hour ago, but Carly had went downstairs, and Sam hadn't taken any initiative to do anything productive. Plus, they're substitute tech producer had cancelled at the last minute.

She clicked on a video of the three of them-Carly, Freddie, and her- that Spencer had filmed when they hadn't been paying attention. She watched Freddie mostly, remembering the way he used to smile and laugh just like her and Carly. She noticed how his eyebrows came together as she insulted him, and how his eyes lit up as he thought of the perfect comeback.

She smiled as she watched the three of them turn in unison to discover Spencer standing there with the camcorder.

Her smile fell. Sam remembered that day; it was about a week before Freddie had gone all emo and mysterious. Stupid Freddie. Didn't he care that iCarly was suffering because of him, or rather, his absence? Didn't he care that she now had no one to insult? Didn't he care about anything?

She moved over to the window and thought about when her dad used to abuse her. She remembered how Freddie had been there almost every night and how he had never thought any less of her.

It was funny how a friendship could change so much.

As much as she hated to admit it, Sam wanted to help Freddie in the same way that he helped her all those years ago. She knew he was hiding something big, and that he needed to talk to someone, but she also knew that he was too stubborn to ask for help. Just because they weren't "best friends" anymore didn't mean she had forgotten everything she had learned about him when they were.

Sure, Carly was a pretty great friend, but she could never come close to replacing the kind of friendship that Sam used to have with Freddie. No one could ever replace that.

Sam cursed herself for thinking so sentimentally about Freddork. What's done is done, she told herself, but it wasn't like she could just close her heart to all those old feelings.

Stupid, blood-pumping organ.

The soft squeak of door hinges startled her out of her reverie. She looked over, expecting to see Carly, but she was taken aback to see Freddie standing timidly in the doorway.

"Uh...hey," he said softly, like he was afraid to talk at a normal volume.

She just stared at him stupidly. A thousand emotions flooded through her; a spark of happiness, confusion, and a twinge of regret upon seeing how tired he looked. But what surprised her the most was the anger that she felt. What gave him the right to ignore her and Carly and then just show up again, uninvited? She knew she was being stupid, and that she should be ecstatic, but it just didn't seem right.

"What are you doing here?" Why do you look so exhausted? What's wrong with you?

He showed very little emotion, but she could see the hurt in his eyes. Not just from her rude greeting, but from something far deeper that she couldn't figure out.

"I just thought I'd come to rehearsal," he said, so soft it was almost a whisper.

Her eyes followed him as he strayed to the tech station, opening the laptop and running his fingers over the keys.

She was about to say something when Carly burst into the room.

"Sam, I just had an idea for a new segment and I wanted you to-" she stopped mid-sentence as she saw Freddie standing there. "Freddie?" she said, something close to relief in her voice that Sam didn't miss. "W-What are you doing here?"

"Is it unacceptable for a tech producer to come to rehearsal?" he said with a hint of annoyance. He was still focused on the laptop. Sam grinned slightly.

"Well, no, but we had someone coming if you don't want to stay."

"He cancelled," Sam said, speaking for the first time. Carly's eyes met Sam's and she raised her eyebrows. Sam shrugged.

"Well, Freddie, uh, the new ideas for the show are on the website if you want to look at them. We put them up for people to vote for." Carly said.

"I know," Freddie replied. "I've been on the website a lot."

The rest of rehearsal went fairly smooth. Sam and Carly rehearsed the most voted for ideas and Carly tried to include Freddie as much as possible. Seeing as he only spoke when spoken to made it a little bit difficult. Sam said nothing to him the entire time; rather, she just watched him. He was quiet, withdrawn, and his mind seemed to be elsewhere. It disturbed her.

Carly wrapped up rehearsal and said, "Well, it's great to have you back, Freddie." She gave Sam a meaningful look. Sam nodded slightly.

"Yeah," Freddie said. "It was nice to get out of the house for a while. One can only take so much mom."

Carly smiled slightly and she walked out, brushing his arm softly as she passed. Sam didn't miss the way he flinched away when she touched him.

Sam tried to find the best way to start the "Talk" as she liked to call it. She played the Good Cop card first. "So, Fredward...what's up?"

"Not much," he said, his voice soft again. "Same old, same old."

"So...nothing bothering you?" she said.

"Nope."

"Nothing at all...?"

"Not that I'm aware of," he glanced up at her with an I-don't-want-to-talk look.

Sam whipped out the Bad Cop card."We both know something's wrong. Now spit it out

before I beat it out of you!"

"Sam," Freddie said calmly. "Nothing's wrong."

"Oh, come ON!" Sam was genuinely mad now. "F's in every class, talking to no one, not doing iCarly...that doesn't sound like nothing to me!"

Freddie shook his head and closed the laptop. "You wouldn't understand." He turned to leave when Sam said, "What wouldn't I understand? Me, of all people?"

She knew he understood what she meant. There was no way he could've forgotten all the nights that had passed between the two of them. He just shook his head again and walked out the door. "You wouldn't understand," he repeated.

"FINE! Be that way!" Sam yelled as he closed the door behind him. "But I know you haven't forgotten!" She hung her head as she hear him descending the stairs.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that night, Freddie was sitting on his bed, with a pen and a notebook lying across his lap.

When he and Sam were younger, they used to write letters to each other. They were about things they didn't want they're parents to know about, or things they didn't want people to overhear in conversation. He learned about Sam's abusive dad in one of her letters to him.

He bit his lip. Was he really about to tell Sam everything that had happened? Sam, whom he hadn't had a real conversation with in over a year?

Yes, he decided with sudden determination. He was.

Freddie set his pen to paper and began to write.


A/N:

Yay! Next chapter!! I forgot to tell you that the idea for this story came from song called "Dear Friend" by Stacie Orrico. :] There really shouldn't be a smiley face, cuz it's a sad song, but w/e.

AND I just watched iKiss!! It was pretty great :]

I'm going to use this chapter to replace the author's note chapter, as I know that it is frowned upon in most societies.

Reviews are very most welcome :]