OK, so here is the final 'official' chapter. I will be writing an epilogue just to tie everything together. This chapter's a bit shorter than the rest, but I hope you like it.

Thanks to every reviewer, I really enjoy getting feedback. I love you all!

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly, but if you're reading Dan, I'd love to..

Spencer had noticed that his apartment had been unusually quiet for a week or so. It was a little unnerving. Usually, there was a whirl of blonde hair or a stripy-shirted boy floating around the place, but it had only been his sister moping about. He grew even more suspicious when Carly informed him that their webshow wasn't being filmed that week, and Spencer had decided to ask what was up.

"Hey, kiddo," He said one night over a dinner of spaghetti tacos, "Is everything ok? You've been a little down lately."

Carly cracked a taco shell and offered him a vague shrug. "I've been tired, I guess."

"Where's Sam and Freddie? I haven't seen them around here recently," He asked, keeping his tone light. Carly's fists clenched, but she didn't respond verbally. "Have you guys had a fight?" Again, there was no reply. Spencer put his taco down and leaned closer to his sister. "Carly. C'mon. You can tell me."

"Sam slept with Freddie, you happy now?!?" She shrieked, jumping up quickly and storming to her bedroom. Spencer's jaw dropped open; the sound of Carly's door slamming shut bringing him back to reality.

He'd seen this coming. Ever since that picture from the prom, ever since he'd seen what Carly hadn't seen at the time. He should've said something.

Then maybe his sister wouldn't be upstairs sobbing over what he'd kept quiet.

Sam slowly twisted her locker combination. She felt mechanical; her body was doing everything automatically, with no energy or thought. It turns out that feeling full of emptiness was possible. She knew what she'd done to Carly had hurt her; and she was pretty sure something had shattered in herself too.

She knew it wasn't her heart, because that had been stolen a long time ago.

Dumping her textbooks in her locker, her gaze darted over to Carly's locker. She hadn't seen the brunette in a while. Sam figured that she'd co-ordinated a way of avoiding the blonde everyday. Carly was very good at holding a grudge.

Which she hated, because right now, she really needed her best friend to help her through this.

Shane stalked by, turning away from her and pretending to be absorbed in what his friend was saying. This was understandable. After that row with Carly and Freddie two weeks ago, Sam had gone straight to see Shane and had told him everything. She didn't want any more people to be hurt by what she was doing, and although Shane was a good guy, she wasn't in love with him, and she never had been. He had been the rebound guy, which Sam knew actually hurt more than being lonely.

Her stomach churned as she saw Freddie advance towards her. She couldn't take confrontation, not today. She span on her heel and walk in the opposite direction. She hated him.

"Sam."

His voice sliced through her mind like a painful reminder. She summoned up the courage to turn around.

"What do you want, Benson?" She responded icily, amazed that her voice didn't shake. Freddie tucked his thumbs in his pockets and stopped in-front of her, not sure of his intentions. Sam tapped her foot impatiently. "Well. It's been good talking to you, but I really have to go-"

"Sam," He repeated softly, placing a hand on her arm. Sam jerked away; his touch burning her skin. "I don't want us to be like this. We need to go and talk to Carly. We need to explain that what happened...it didn't mean anything," He lowered his voice.

She hated him.

"It didn't mean anything?" She hissed, "If it didn't mean anything, then Carly would be talking to us. If it didn't mean anything, then we'd be going around as friends, insulting each other the way we used to. If it didn't mean anything, we sure as hell wouldn't be like this," She took a deep breath and stared right into his eyes, "I'm tired, Freddie. I'm tired of pretending. Aren't you?"

Freddie didn't waver; he kept his eyes locked onto hers. Sam blinked and walked away, hoping that she wouldn't cry. She was Sam Puckett. She didn't cry. God, she hated him.

She loved him. But she hated him for it.

"Hey."

Freddie glanced up to see Carly, with a slight smile on her face, standing by his locker. This was their first contact in two weeks, and after everything Freddie had prepared to say to her, he was at a loss for words.

Luckily, Carly began. "I've missed you."

"Really?" He responded, apprehensive of where she was going.

Carly giggled. "Yeah, I have. You're still my best friend, aren't you? It's been horrible without you."

"Carly. What we did to you was wrong. But it-"

"If you tell me it didn't mean anything, I'm going to kick you," Carly warned, her expression fierce. Freddie's brows knotted together. "I'm not stupid. I've said all along that you're in love with Sam, and having sex with someone usually means you feel something for them. Unless you're drunk. You weren't drunk, were you?" Freddie shook his head quickly.

"No. I was just upset over losing you. Sam was there, and-"

"You've already told me all this," Carly waved his excuse away with her hand. "It's weird, because you talk so much, and yet you don't really say anything," She observed. Edging towards him, she asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"About Sam."

"I'm not going to do anything. She hates me, anyway."

Carly titled her head to the side and smiled. "You'd be surprised."

Freddie grew dubious, an eyebrow shooting up his forehead to illustrate this. He and Carly fell into a slow trot until they approached the doorway. As a wave of fresh Seattle air hit them, he finally spoke up.

"Looks like it's going to storm. The clouds are really dark," He examined the sky, attempting to sound indifferent. He seemed to recall someone being scared of storms. What it Spencer? Or Wendy?

"That's alright," The brunette beside him announced.

"It is?" He asked.

"Yeah. Because," Carly smiled over at him, "After the storm, comes the calm."

Freddie followed Carly into her apartment; the familiar Shay smell comforting his worries. He was home.

Carly threw her bag on the couch and sauntered over to the kitchen. "Wahoo Punch?" She offered, tugging two bottles from the fridge and lightly tossing one his way. She unscrewed the cap to another and took a refreshing sip. Freddie's eyes stayed glued to the kitchen worktop, an uneasy atmosphere settling over them.

"You OK?" She asked, setting her bottle aside.

"Yeah," He responded, too quickly for Carly to believe him. The raindrops splattered softly against the window; the only sound in the room. Freddie watched them slide down the window, racing each other to the bottom. They'd soon evaporate, and start again, ready for the next rainfall. Ready for the next race.

There was a sudden knock at the door, causing both Carly and Freddie to jump. Carly bounded over and flung the door open.

"Hi," Sam said. She shifted awkwardly from her left foot to her right, wondering what else to say. "Can I come in?"

Carly swept an arm across the room without hesitation. Sam's eyes met Freddie's, and the blonde momentarily forgot how to breath. There was silence for what felt like a lifetime.

"Are you two...?" Sam didn't finish, hoping someone would give her an answer.

"He's come over to help me with some homework," Carly replied, surprised at how curt she was. Sam nodded, before her face crinkled in bewilderment.

"Tonight?"

Carly bobbed her head in confirmation, her expression quizzical.

"Why not tonight?" Freddie spoke for the first time. His voice was strained.

"It's a Friday," Sam reminded them, "Don't we do iCarly tonight?" Sam instantly regretted using the word 'we'.

Carly turned her back to the blonde and began to rummage through her bag. She wasn't going to cry; because she knew that nothing could ever be the same. How could they do iCarly, when all of this had come between them? "Yeah, but we're taking a break from that, aren't we?" She sniffed, ignoring Freddie's burning gaze on her form, "I mean...after everything...we're not even friends."

Sam flinched; the words like a slap in the face. Must not cry. Must not cry.

"OK," She gave up. She gave up trying to get through to Carly, because she wasn't listening. She gave up trying to be sorry for something she had wanted to do for a while, no matter how much it had hurt everyone. After all, selfishness was something that Sam Puckett was known for.

She walked out of one storm and walked into another.

Carly stared at Sam's retreating back, a tear slipping from her eye. Freddie got up from his seat and went to her, but he wasn't able to give her his hand, or wrap an arm around her waist. He felt lousy, but he imagined Carly understood this feeling.

"She hates storms," Carly mumbled, almost incoherent.

"What?"

"Sam. She hates storms. Always has done. Remember that time we went camping with Spencer, and she refused to leave the caravan when it was raining hard? She said it was because she couldn't be bothered, but she was really terrified of the oncoming storm," Carly informed him, her voice tightening, "And I just sent her out into one."

"Should we go after her?"

Carly wavered for a moment. Despite everything that had gone down between them, she still loved Sam. She grabbed her jacket and sped from the room, happy when she heard Freddie's footsteps right behind her.

He was going to get a cold, meaning his mother would be stuffing his nostrils with non-scented tissues for the next week or so, and feeding him as many oranges as possible, 'for the vitamins' she'd tell him, and Freddie would soon not be able to stand the sight of the acidic fruit for a year afterwards.

But it was worth it, to find her.

He and Carly had split up at the bottom of their apartment building; Carly turning left in the direction of the Groovy Smoothie, and Freddie going in the direction of the park.

The raindrops struck his face like knives as he sprinted through the neighbourhood, and he tried to ignore the faint sounds of thunder in the background. He hoped Carly would be OK, and he prayed that Sam would be even better.

"Sam!" He called, breathless. There was no-one in the park that he could see, but the weather was clouding up his vision. He could barely spot a single tree, let alone a teenage girl. Squinting, something suddenly caught his eye. It was the swing, located in the kids playground.

His mind was cast back to he and Carly's first year anniversary, when he'd first told to Sam that he'd felt something for her. He'd admitted it then; why was he denying everything now? Was it about Carly, even though she was OK with their relationship? Was it his mom's inevitable disapproval? Or was it the risk of getting his heart broken?

He guessed it was a combination of all three.

"Sam!" He screamed into the rain again. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the weather, and he strode forward. Something behind him pulled on his coat, and he squealed loudly.

"Freddie?" Sam cried, "What are you doing out here?" Her blonde hair was plastered to her face, and she was shivering. Freddie, despite her being soaked through, couldn't help thinking how beautiful she was. Time and place, Fredward, he scolded himself inwardly.

"Oh god, Sam, you scared me! I was out here to find you!" His hands were clasped around her elbows, and he didn't want to let go, "Carly told me you're scared of storms, so come back inside!"

"I'm not scared," Sam said indignantly. She didn't like him seeing her vulnerable. "And anyway, why would Carly care? We're not even friends!"

"Sam, you're her best friend, and you always will be."

Sam blinked up at him, and he couldn't distinguish whether it was tears or raindrops falling down her cheeks. The rain continued to pour around them, but now Freddie was only focused on this girl. His grip was less forceful, and now tender.

"You'll always be my best friend too," He confessed. Suddenly, everything came pouring out. "And I'm sorry for everything I said. I was stupid, and I was scared. Because loving Carly is really the only thing I've ever known, and I thought it would be all I needed. But then you mixed things up and now I'm clueless. I don't want to screw this up, because...when I kissed you on New Years Eve, when we slept together, any time I've looked over just in time to see you smile, I felt right inside. And that meant something."

A rumble of thunder interrupted his declaration. His eyes darted to Sam, in case she was frightened.

"You OK?" He whispered.

Sam laughed; his favourite sound in the whole world. "You're such a nub. Of course I'm OK."

"Well.." She said after a moment.

"Well?"

She heaved a sigh. Boys. So stupid. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

Freddie then decided, as they kissed in the rain, that if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.