(Freddie's POV)
Freddie forced himself to think as he drove down the highway. This is insane. Sam Puckett, the girl who dropped off the face of the Earth for three years has finally revealed herself to him. He went to M.I.T. and he needs to make sure.
Late. He's too late. He'll probably miss his chance for his job. Still, he pulls his car up to the FBI official building. Shaking, he walked into the building.
He was greeted with Brad slamming his palms into Freddie's chest. "You idiot!" Brad hissed. "Where the hell have you been?"
"You don't want to know," Freddie growled back. Brad had every right to be mad, but Freddie can't deal with this right now. "Are they pissed?"
"Yeah, kind of!" Brad was straightening his tie. "Look, I shouldn't be telling you this, because you don't handle stress well-"
"What?" Freddie interrupted. "That's not true!" If only you knew the half of it! He wailed silently to himself.
"Whatever. There's been talk that the executive's been looking at you. I mean, you've lived in Seattle all your life. They say you being on the tech team will benefit them."
"But why?" Freddie asks, his voice dripping with confusion. "It's not like we would be out catching criminals. We're just the computer crew."
"Maybe it goes deeper." Brad just shrugged.
"Are we going to get our results?" Freddie asks.
"Eventually. I've been waiting for an hour." Brad says. His baige-blonde hair falls over his forehead. He looks exactly the same as he did years ago, when he first met him.
"..." Freddie wonders if he should ask Brad. He looks at his shoes, then finally says, "...Brad? You think we made it?"
"You defintely did." Brad says. "As if they would turn down someone who graduated from M.I.T. in only three years."
"Yeah, but-" Freddie was interrupted by the secretary telling him to go to the tech room. Brad nods good luck to him, and with trembling legs he lead himself to the office.
It was probably the most beautiful thing that wasn't living and breathing and blonde that Freddie has ever seen. Just tech. Endless tech. Mircochips and PCs and Peartops and even things he couldn't identify. He was marveling at the beauty of it all when a guy who was about thirty approached him.
"You must be Mr. Benson." He held his hand out. "It's an honor to meet you. I'm Richard Mitchell, one of the lead chiefs in the tech department."
"Wait, this is Fredward Benson!" A younger guy with glasses who was working one of the computers stood up in shock. "The Fredward Benson?"
Within seconds, Freddie was surrounded by what can only be considered as nerds. They all were talking at one time, asking questions. He thought he heard one say how awesome he was.
"Stop and look," Mr. Mitchell says, putting a hand on Freddie's shoulder and pulling him away from the cluster. The nerds reformed back into a line, watching intently. "Yes, this is Fredward Benson, our new Tech Supervisor."
The nerds began clapping. Mr. Mitchell went on," At the age of twenty-one, Fredward Benson has already graduated from M.I.T. with his Master's Degree in tech and computers. He will make a great addition to the team."
The nerds began clapping again, and Freddie ducked his head at the praise.
"Now everyone, back to work!" Mr. Mitchell says, and once everyone cleared out, he says to Freddie, "Now, it is required we show every new member of the team this. Follow me."
Bewildered, Freddie followed the man to a room. He watched as Mr. Mitchell pressed his hand to the scan. I know how to crack into that, Freddie thought weakly. Then he watched, amazed, at the other tests he had to go through. Tongue scan, eye scan, hair scan, voice test... Maybe it'd be a bit more difficult than Freddie thought.
Mr. Mitchell led Freddie to a computer. He turned his gaze on Freddie and says, "You know how everyone in the FBI must know what the top ten most wanted are?"
"Yes." Freddie replies. He had already memorized it for this job, though. Should he tell him that?
"Well, we're dealing with a problem here." Mr. Mitchell says, his eyes dark. "There's been talk of secret organizations going around for decades. What look like innocent gangs can be much more, and we must be prepared for anything."
"What makes them a threat?" Freddie asks.
"It's mostly just two gangs that are at each other's throats. The things they're willing to do to kill the other side can be frightening. Innocent citzens can be murdered." Mr. Mitchell began loading something on the computer. "We...we were glad you joined us, Fredward, because one of the gangs is always spotted in Seattle. The We wanted to know if you have seen any of these indiviuals."
"Let me see them," Freddie says, looking at the list.
The list showed the person's name and a picture Some of the members had names listed and some didn't. A lot of them didn't have many pictures up, and if they did, they were fuzzy and hardly defined. Some had pictures of them in prison. Freddie couldn't regconize most of them: The speculated leader of them, the woman with the pointy, sharp features looked kind of familiar, the broad-shouldered blonde looked like someone he once knew... He wasn't sure.
He clicked through the endless speculated people, the endless fuzzy pictures. Finally, a picture came up, along with a name, that froze Freddie in place.
Samantha Puckett with a picture of her in prison.
Flashback:
(Freddie's POV) April 8th, 2012. 9:17 A.M.
"Wake up!" Freddie's eyes snapped open to see Sam less than an inch away from his face. Her golden curls with brushing his cheeks. "Come on, you've been asleep for like, two hours!"
Freddie responded by gripping the back of Sam's neck and pulling her down to kiss her. She grips his shoulders, and he tilts his head upward to get more. But now Sam was pulling away from him.
"Tease!" he groans, flopping back and acting overly-dramatic.
"Didn't you get enough last night?" Sam says, winking at him.
"I can't ever get enough of you." Freddie responds, trying to be an old-school romantic, but Sam was already hauling him up out of bed.
"Come on! Can you make me breakfast?" She asks, making a puppy dog face.
"Sam, you had me up all night. Can't I sleep a little more?" Freddie says, falling back into bed.
"Oh, okay. So I won't keep you up anymore with that." Sam says, her voice indifferent.
Freddie, realizing that was the complete opposite of what he wanted, stood right back up. "Kay, it'll be ready in ten minutes."
"It's sad I have to manipulate you with that," Sam calls after him.
"Nyehh!"
"Nyehh!"
Freddie begins to crack the eggs over the pan. He constantly spends the night over Sam's place since Sam's mom is never home and his mom works at the hospital. They can't ever spend the night over at Freddie's house (his mom has cameras around to catch them doing anything... Controversial.) so if they ever want to do...stuff...they do it at Sam's house.
Sam stumbles into the kitchen, and kisses Freddie on his mouth. Before she can pull away in a half second he grips her waist and won't let her go. She pushes him away.
"What was that for?" Freddie whines.
"Don't start doing...that." Sam snaps.
"Doing what?" He asks all too innocently.
"It's too early for anything like that!" she groans.
"Whatever you say, Princess Puckett." He says, returning his attention back to the frying food.
He glances at Sam over his shoulder. She was splayed across the table, looking at her texts on her phone. Her bright, carefree face suddenly drops when she reads something.
"Is anything wrong?" Freddie asks her."
"I...uh..." Sam begins to move. She suddenly shuffles for her bright pink hoodie he had gotten her for her birthday. "I gotta go real quick."
"Wait, Sam-" Freddie calls after her. "What about-"
She was already out the door.
His shoulders slumped. This isn't the first time something like this happened. Her leaving eruptly after reading a text or recieving a call. He should be concerned, but Sam is a girl just like any other at times. It was probably something with Carly, or with Wendy, or something.
Of course Sam is the most diverse person/girl/creature he had ever met. He'll figure out what is wrong eventually. She'll let him in eventually. She always does.
But for tonight, oh well. There goes his chances of getting laid tonight.
(Freddie's POV)
Freddie felt sick to his stomach when he saw Sam in the list. This list, this list full of killers and gangbangers and violent indiviuals... Sam was on it. Sam's personal alone is killer and violent, but the thought of her actually going out and cutting someone-
Freddie looks at the pictures. There was some of her when she was arrested four times, but the fuzzy ones really got his attention. His heart almost stops when he saw a picture of her wearing the pink hoodie he got her. The date that picture was taken might have been the same day she left him that morning in April.
More and more fuzzy pictures. Some he wasn't even sure they were her. A scrap of the pink hoodie here, a flash of blonde curls there... And then he saw one from 2008. The same year they started iCarly.
She's been with this group for that long? Freddie thought, his thoughts getting dizzy. Why didn't she tell him...?
"Do you regconize this girl?" Mr. Mitchell asks him.
This gang has been wanted for, what Mr. Mitchell said, decades. And he just saw one of the members today! He needed to tell him about what he saw, right? He was sworn under oath to do that...
"No." Freddie said stiffly. "I don't think so."
Flashback:
(Sam's POV) April 8th, 2012. 9:36 A.M.
Sam jumped out of her car and scrambled into the alley. She goes into the right alleyway next to it, then the left one, and then sideways, then repeat, then going down the staircase that lead to the dark.
Once light was no longer visible, she let out her five-note whistle. Ten seconds go by before finally someone responds with the whistle. And then another. And then another. Sam follows the sound, and she feels herself brushing against another person.
"Ultraviolet." Sam whispers under her breath.
"Goldielocks." Ultraviolet replies, her voice thin and unbreaking. "Where the hell have you been?"
"Busy." Sam replies.
"Busy with what?" A deep voice asks.
Sam turns to him. "X-Rated, it's none of your business."
"None of my business?" X-Rated scoffs. "You're under eighteen. We're responsible for you until you can fucking take care of yourself."
"I can't take care of myself?" Sam hisses, grasping X-Rated's collar. "I have a blackbelt, I mastered in martial arts, I know every single one of your pressure points and which can kill you, and I know over ninety different ways to kill you with my bare hands. And I can't take care of myself?"
Sam could picture X-Rated grinning, his dark russet hair falling over his forehead. "That's my Goldielocks."
Sam shoves him away. "And anyways, it will be my birthday in less than two weeks." Then she paused. "Didn't I hear one more whistle?"
"You're late."
The icy-cold voice of Severa reached Sam's ears. She knew it was directed at her, and she was glad that the darkness masked her fear.
Except she was convinced Severa could smell fear.
"Goldielocks, what have you been up to?" Severa says, her voice playing in Sam's head.
"Nothing." Sam replies, her voice not giving her terror away. She never has been one to show fear. "I was just late."
"Oh really?" Severa says viciously. "I'm so sorry that you don't trust us. I thought we were all an organization."
Sam felt stung. "I'm loyal to The just like everyone else."
"So, you haven't been sneaking out to see anyone." Severa states.
Sam hates it when people do that. When people switch a question into an accusation. "I haven't been seeing anyone. I'm more than loyal to this organization, and you know that."
"Then prove it."
And Severa's footsteps faded away. Sam could feel X-Rated and Ultraviolet's warm breathing nearby.
"I have to go." Sam murmurs. "I'll be on time next time."
"You better." Ultraviolet says. The two walk away together, and Sam was left in the darkness.
Sam felt bitter as she made her way back to her house. It wasn't fair. The organization strictly banned romances with anyone outside the Clan. But it wasn't like she was seeing someone in the opposing Clan. No, she was simply in love with someone far more innocent than anyone she has ever known. No one needs to know. Not Severa, not Ultraviolet, not even X-Rated.
It's none of their business.
(Freddie's POV)
Freddie drives over the speedlimit once he's let out of the place. He's heading to an old friend's house. Sam won't let him in. And now he just found out that she is a part of some organization that kills.
He needs to know. She can't keep him out forever.
Sam has always been kind of shady at times. Constantly disappearing, on some days acting out of the ordinary... For about as long as he can remember. He just figured it was part of her spacey personality.
But now he knew that she was a part of something that is making the FBI shiver under their skin. Something that could make history, like the Mafia. Something that explains her bruises.
He attempts to call the number she texted him from but it was restricted. He can't get a hold of her. He had no idea where she went. He needs to find her. Right now.
He gets to his friend's house, gets out of his car, and knocks on the door. She managed to live in a surburban now, unlike the apartment she grew up in.
A man answers the door, and says, "Hello? Freddie?"
"Alex," Freddie says evenly, dipping his head in politeness. "Good to see you. Is Carly home?"
"Yes, she's-" Alex is interrupted by a squeaking voice. A boy of the age of three stumbles to the door, his wide brown eyes staring up at him. He looks like a minature version of Carly.
"Hi! I'm Max. What's your name?" The boy says, looking up at Freddie.
Freddie gives him a little smile. "Hello, I'm Freddie. Is your mother home?"
"Freddie?"
The pretty brunette walked down the stairs near the doorway, her large brown eyes staring at him. She is pregnant; Freddie remembers the email she sent him. She comes to the door and places her hand on Alex's shoulder.
"Hello Carly," Freddie says. "May I talk to you for a bit?"
Alex looks like he'd rather do otherwise, but Carly says, "Yes, come inside."
Freddie steps in, and takes off his shoes. "It's been awhile."
Carly looked hurt. "You almost never answer my emails."
"I did that one time..." Freddie argued.
"Follow me." Freddie followed the young woman into her living room. He can't help but admire the house. He always promised that he would have a house like that someday, because ever since he was four he had been living out of apartments, at grandparent houses. It was a miracle that in sixth grade they came to Bushwell Plaza, which they managed to stay in for a while.
"Now, what did you need to talk about?" Carly asks him, blinking at him with her eyelashes lined with mascara.
"It's about..." Freddie trails off. Practically anything him and Carly ever talk about is their long lost friend.
"Sam?" She finishes.
"Yeah..." Freddie looks at the ground. "I just wanted to know... You've known her since second grade..."
"Yeah..." She says in the same way she used to when they were teens.
"When did she start acting so..." Freddie grouped for words. "Different?"
"Different how?"
"Always disappearing. Hiding things..." Freddie looked at Carly. "Anything?"
"Hmm..." Carly glanced away. "She...she's kinda always been like that. Maybe around tenth grade?"
But the pictures were before tenth grade, Freddie argues in his head.
"Why are you asking this?" Carly asks gently. "Do we need to talk about..."
"Carly." Freddie says rustily. "I need to know."
"What?" she asks.
"When was the last time you saw Sam?"
Flashback:
(Carly's POV) June 5th, 2012. 6:15 P.M.
Carly doesn't like waiting. She wasn't the kind of person who would bicker and argue and resort to regression when she's been waiting for a while, but she always feels the impatient bug crawling up and through her. Come on. Where is he?
She looks at the stick that lies on the bathroom sink. She trembles at the sight of it. "Thank God we're almost out of school," she murmurs to herself, but it doesn't hide the fear and excitement she feels inside.
She hears the door open, and she can't help but grin and grin. "Alex," she calls. "Come in here."
Her boyfriend walks through the door, and kisses her gently. "Hey sweetness," he says. "What's wrong? You sent me like five texts."
"Look." she says, and hands him the stick. His green-rimmed hazel eyes widen at the little plus sign on it. She waits for him to respond. Maybe he won't.
"Are you..." Carly's voice trails off.
"You're..." Alex searches for words. "Pregnant?"
"Uhm...yeah..." she says, feeling terror strike through her. He wasn't mad, was he? It was him who wanted IT 95% of the time.
"Carly, that's GREAT." Is all Alex can say before Carly jumps into his arms. It occurs to her that it would be okay, but still...
"What about you and college?" Carly asks, looking up at him. "You are leaving in a few months.
"It's only a couple hours away," Alex soothed. "We can handle it, I promise. Did you tell anyone else?"
"No," Carly says, her voice rising. "I had to tell you first. But I have to tell Sam! And Freddie. Oh my God, I'll be right back." Carly jumps past him and runs out the door.
"Don't stress yourself!" Alex yells after her.
Carly gets into her car and drives to Sam's house. She really hoped Sam was alone there and Freddie wasn't over. She shuddered to think about the things they do behind closed doors. She knew it wasn't too pretty. At least to her.
Luckily, Freddie's car wasn't in the driveway. Or Sam's mom's. Where has she been, anyway? She's been leaving a lot more often now that Sam is eighteen. And can handle herself. Hell, she's been handling herself ever since she could toddle.
Carly is about to knock on the door when she hears a clash. Carly backs away. What as that? Glass breaking? She looked through the window.
Sam is backed into a corner. Her blue eyes are about as wide as Carly has ever seen them. Two young adults were cornering the blonde, their eyes blazing with fury. One of them was a broad-shouldered guy with russet hair that falls in dapples over his forehead. The other was a smaller girl with thin, dark hair. Both of them were dressed in black, and the girl had a knife in her hand.
Carly was about to call 9-1-1 when Sam says, "Look, you're overreacting."
"You fucking idiot!" The girl hisses, her small shoulders stiff. "Do you not get what's happening here? Severa will cut you for this personally I'd imagine."
"Not if you help me here," Sam says, her voice tight and controlled.
"Help you how?" The guy sneers. "We've been helping you since you were seven years old. And you go and betray us like this."
"Betray?" Sam says in disbelief. "The rule is STUPID! He is completely harmless. He's not part of them."
"How do you know that?" The guy snaps.
Sam looks at him. "If you saw him, you'd understand."
"Let me put this to you in perspective." The dark-haired girl growls. "When Severa finds out about this, she will cut you, and him, and all of your family and his family. And if anyone goes looking for any of you, they die also."
"Look, I have a plan." Sam says. "If you listen to me, you'll hear it.
The three cluster together. Carly has to strain to hear them. She can hardly hear Sam's hushed whisper. She can make out the words pretend, and sister, and X-Rated. The three pulled away.
"That would never work," The guy says stiffly. "We never had anything going on."
"We could say it was an one-night stand. We could swear on it. X-Rated, you have to help me with this." She gently touches his arm and looks into his eyes, just like she does for Freddie. Except a few minutes later she'd start making out with Freddie and he'd drag her into a closet, but that's besides the point.
The two young adults exchange a worried glance. Finally, the guy says, "Fine. But you owe me for this."
"She already owes us." The girl snaps. "We'll talk later tonight, after your graduation." The two disappear out the back door, and Carly watches Sam as she stands in her kitchen.
Then Sam does something she's done in front of Carly three times in the eleven years they've known each other.
She starts to cry.
Carly can't take it anymore. She shoves the front door open. Sam stops in her tracks and looks at her, her wide blue eyes smeared with eyeliner and mascara from running tears.
"Carly?" She gasps.
"Sam! What happened? What's wrong?" Carly runs to her friend.
Sam backs away as if Carly was the angel of death. "Carly, why are you here?" She half wails.
"I needed to tell you something, but tell me what happened first!" Carly insisted.
"Nothing happened," Sam says in her old Sam voice, as if nothing happened.
"I saw it, Sam." Carly says impatiently. See, the impatience is rising again. "I saw everything, with those two people-"
"Wait, you saw that?" Sam says, her voice shrill with panic. "What did you see? What did you HEAR?"
"Something about you being in trouble, and a plan..." Carly trails off, seeing the terror in Sam's eyes. "Sam, I can help you. You have to tell me what's wrong."
Now Sam was getting a bit angry. "No, I don't." She growls. "I don't have to tell you jack! Just leave me alone!"
"Sam, we're best friends!" Carly says, her voice desperate. "All of us can help you with whatever you're going through. You just need to tell us. Me, and Freddie-"
Sam seems to snap at the mention of Freddie's name. "Get out of here!" She screams. "Get the fuck out of here, now!"
Carly backs outside, and Sam slams the door in her face. Carly runs to the window, but Sam is shutting the blinds. Carly is left outside, and alone.
Carly beats her fists on the door. "Sam, open up! We need to talk."
And there was no reply, except for the soft sound of Sam's sobs.
(Freddie's POV)
After Carly finished telling the story, Freddie was ready to jump out of his skin. "What? What didn't you tell me this before?"
"I told the police, but that was it. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone." Carly pleads.
"What? Why?"
"You know Sam wouldn't have wanted me to," Carly says briskly.
"Oh? What if those two people killed her!" Freddie knows this isn't true, since he just saw Sam earlier that day. But Carly hasn't seen her in three years, and immediately tears spring in Carly's eyes.
Okay, that was the wrong thing to say, Freddie thinks to himself. "Look, I have to go." He says briskly, stepping outside rather quickly. He was upset for making Carly cry, but he had a point.
As he drove away, he knew he should ask others what they knew. What happened to Sam before she left. Just so he'd know.
Just so he could find her.
She can't hide forever.
No matter how much she wants to.
