Carly and Sam devoured the kitchen space with all of their baking supplies, red velvet cake mix, oils, eggs, flours, everything anyone could possibly need or more, all sitting scattered messily around the counter tops and sink, and even some homemade butter cream frosting on the floor. Sam jokingly threw flour at Carly and she sighed in annoyance, trying to hurriedly get them ready.

"Sam, I have to be at Grand-dad's place by two o'clock." Carly anxiously nags her.

"Relax, we've got already a dozen made. How many can eight old men eat at once?" Sam reassures her and Carly frowns.

"More than you could believe." She warns her.

Sam sighed, secretly dreading Carly's disappearance for the weekend, knowing that her options of anyone to talk to would be limited, refusing to go back to therapy, but too uncomfortable yet to open up to Spencer despite their relationship growing one such as a brother and sister would have.

"Carls, is this really necessary? Can't they order cupcakes or something?" Sam whines.

"We see him like twice a year, and it's only for three days." Carly promises.

Sam groans as she tosses the muffin tin carelessly in the oven, adjusting the temperature to 425 degrees in hopes that they would bake faster. She then brushes off her pants, dusting the flour from her hands and sweeping her hair back off her shoulders, as she took the liberty of doing the dishes upon herself.

"You're doing the dishes?" Carly asks in surprise as she turns around.

"No, i'm just licking out the dishes and setting them in the sink. I turn around so you can't judge me."

"At least they're making it into the sink." Carly replies sarcastically, smirking as she turns her back to Sam.

Carly suddenly glances at her phone, groaning loudly as she tosses it down and runs to the living room to grab her coat. Without a word she throws it around her shoulders and zippers it, grabbing her purse before returning to grab her phone.

"Carly, what's wrong?" Sam asks upon noticing her eyes burning with tears.

"Don't worry about it, i'll be back by morning if all goes well." Carly informs her nervously, flying open the door before slamming it behind her.

Sam paces nervously back and forth, remembering the cupcakes in the oven and the mess in the kitchen, fearing the arrival of Spencer back home, anxious of how she would explain anything to him when she didn't know herself. And it was exactly those little things of having to explain things or being left alone, or even the arrival of anyone she knew made her nervous, worrying that she would fail at make small talk, or make or even feel uncomfortable around other people. Fears like those scared her most, the social side of her anxiety the side she hid the most from others, the constant fear of always feeling like others would be out to get her, or that she would have to keep up her 'bad girl' image.

Sam is startled from her thoughts from the loud and repetitive beeping of the smoking alarm, the sound filling the room as smoke floated to the ceiling, and Sam jumped in response, lunging for the flour on the counter before opening the oven. She tosses it into the oven, smothering the small flames that were burning off of the now charcoal cupcakes, and turned off the oven before tossing a moist towel over the pan.

Her heart raced as she collapsed against the kitchen island, breathing heavily as she looked around at the mess she had made. From that point she had felt frazzled as if she was useless on her own, feeling bad over the fact that she really couldn't help herself without Carly around to help.

"Sam?" A deep voice calls as Sam hears the footsteps move closer.

Sam slide her hand across her nose and her sleeve around her eyes, attempting to clean herself up before the embarrassment of having Freddie find her in her most vulnerable and weakest moment, blushing at the fact that she was upset over a few burnt cupcakes when she knew the bigger problem was her safety.

"Sam, we heard the alarm and I wanted to see if you were okay, but now it's obvious that you're not."

"Am so." She defends quietly.

"C'mon Sam, you're shaking and you look flushed." Freddie insists before offering his hand.

Sam gingerly accepts, allowing herself to be yanked up by Freddie's strong limbs and finds herself willingly his open embrace, finding her body had relaxed upon entering a comforting and familiar hold. She sighed, feeling that her limbs had gone limp, and her body felt warm and calm beneath his arms. As she brought herself the confidence to let go, the reassurance of Freddie's warm grasp hadn't left, and she longed for it again, the memory of his soft and loving touch feeling so familiar, so close, such a vivid memory being drawn back from the past.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay while Carly's gone?" Freddie asks unsurely.

"Why wouldn't I be? My mom never took care of me and I practically raised myself, so what difference does it make if Carly's around or not? Don't you think I know what it's like to be alone?" She brushes off his concern.

"Carly cares for you is the difference between her and your mom. Besides, you're not exactly capable on your own to be trusted, you have... tendencies." He infers.

"What tendencies?" She asks bluntly.

"Criminal ones?" Freddie adds and Sam offers a small laughs in agreeance.

Sam leans over and takes Freddie by surprise, resting her head calmly on his shoulder as her instinctively wraps his arm around her, as if nothing had changed, feeling as if they were the couple they once wanted or hoped to be, the one that despite their flaws, they saw each other for who they were, and Freddie knew deep inside that Sam was a rose in which he fell in love with her roots, her true self, looking past the 'thorns' to see the true beauty.

"I've never stopped loving you." Freddie murmurs to himself.

"What?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking up towards him as she lifted her head slightly from his shoulder.

"If two people can see each other past their flaws, and it's opposites that really attract, then we should be together. We should be in love because our mistakes make us different, and that's what we have in common, we're both perfectly flawed."

"Well, neither of us are gonna change anytime soon."

"So what are we waiting for? Neither of us are ever gonna be perfect; You're not gonna be more normal, I'm not gonna become less normal, but it's our differences that bring out the best of us, and we have to learn to work around them."

Sam nervously shuffles her left foot back and forth in front of her, kicking it as she slide it along the floor, exhaling deeply as she thought over everything and wondered if she felt safe, afraid of being burned once again.

"Do you really mean that?" Sam whispers.

"What? That I never stopped loving you?" He smiles.

"Well...How do you feel?" She asks sheepishly.

Freddie smiles at her before turning his body, holding his arm around her waist and leaning in, pulling her head towards him before touching his lips to hers, the velvet touch feeling familiar and safe, as if nothing ever changed. As he looked back at her, her eyes lit up, looking the most calm they had in months, her face glowing and the tension in her body leaving all at once as she struggled to think of anything to say, and rather leaned back into him, feeling the comfort of home.

-XXX-

May 15: Day (Forget it, I stopped writing it after day four)

It's becoming more apparent that I'm not as much of my mother as I thought I was. For example, i've never had and will never intend to beat the record number of boyfriends my mother's either used for financial help or free doctor visits or whatever, or that have left her after stealing our things, that really aren't even that worthy of stealing in the first place but do it because they wanted the sting to make an impression on my mom.

With Freddie, it's safe and familiar, but it's not the only reason i'm going back. He has showed me that despite my flaws, to love who I am because it's what makes up my "you-ness" and told me that it's my roots he fell in love with, the part of the rose that usually is hidden, the parts that you can't see until you start digging up some of the dirt. He even explained that he once read a quote on splash face:

"If you spend all your time looking for the perfect person, you'll miss the imperfect person who could be imperfectly perfect for making you happy."

I'll admit that I laughed at him at first before soaking in the meaning of what he was trying to say. But of course my face would be floating in a bathtub full of diet soda before i'd admit that he was ever right. But the truth was, I'm afraid: You can't plan for the future, you can't fix what's been burned, and I'm afraid of taking the risk of it happening again. I'm afraid to leave from what's familiar and safe, what 'smells' like home. And with Carly and Freddie, I've finally found a safe and familiar place, a comfort zone in which I couldn't dream of setting foot out of…

"Sam?" Carly calls, startling Sam enough to send her pen into flight from her hand, hitting the floor as it rolled of the bed.

"Yeah… What?!" She asks in surprise, clearly and suspiciously startled from her deep thoughts.

"I'm finally home and come into my room to find you in my bed, and all you have to say for yourself is 'yeah...what?" Carly asks in amusement, tossing her purse and small duffle bag onto her sofa bed.

"Sorry! Surprise, you're home!" Sam says, faking her enthusiasm and Carly laughs.

"Next time don't break the lock on the front door, and re-hide the key!" Carly nudges her jokingly.

Carly plops on the bed next to Sam, peering over her shoulder before Sam quickly snaps her journal shut, tossing it to the side and it falls between the back of Carly's headboard and the mattress. Sam fakes a big toothy smiles at Carly, trying to hide the flustered look from her face.

"Okay…" Carly lets it go, preparing for the next new news she was going to share.

"How did everything go with grand-dad?" Sam changes the subject quickly.

"He had an asthma attack that nearly killed him." She sighs, feeling a fearful lump form in her throat.

Sam leans for Carly, wrapping her arms around Carly's shoulders, comforting the brunette the best she could before Carly wipes her face, sitting to face Sam, smiling with good news to share.

"I've been calling around, and I think I might have found you someone you like, someone just like Mrs. MacSweeney." Carly excitedly informs her.

"I'm seriously doubting that. Look, I love you, but i've changed my mind."

"Sam, Mrs. MacSweeney can help you somewhat, but her diploma is only basic and she can't offer you the same professional help and medicines a psychologist or psychiatrist can, nor can Freddie or myself." Carly reminds her.

"All i'm looking for is comfort, not for life advice and skills to develop. So if some paid professional can give me half as good of advice as Mrs. MacSweeney, then I don't want to waste the time. I want someone passionate about their job because they want to help others, not make money for something they don't truly care about."

Sam angrily rolls off the bed, her sudden frustration confusing Carly, just days before remembering that Sam had been willing and open to looking for help, now shutting down the idea, anxious about the entire idea of receiving help.

"Sam?" Carly calls after her.

"Look, Freddie was right; You really just need someone who understands you and your mistakes, and that is willing to stay by your side, looking past your flaws into who you really are and what you really need to grow as a person."

"He said that?"

"Yes, and then we kissed." She adds before sighing and turning around, heading back to sit on the bed.

Carly scoots over, making room for Sam in order to put her arm around her, rubbing comforting circles around her back as Sam shook from beneath her. Carly looked firmly into Sam's reddened face, hoping for further explanation, but not to push her so far out of her comfort zone that Sam would completely shut down.

"Sam, what can we do to help you feel… better, at the very least?"

"Don't force me to go to therapy." She suggests quietly.

"Anything else? What's the smallest gesture we can do to help you?"

Sam sticks her tongue out as she ponders the brunette's kind gesture, truly thinking of any way that she or Freddie could help her. She finally regains eye contact with her, smiling gently before seriously glaring at her.

"Be ready to talk on my terms, when I'm ready to explain what's wrong. Not forcing me to talk when sometimes I'm not even sure what's wrong. Give me space and time and be ready when I am."

"So in other words, flexibility?" She confirms before hugging Sam.

The two girls smile, Sam feeling tension leave her body with the comfort of knowing that her friend was willing to help her on more mutual terms, overcome her anxiety at a pace that wouldn't overwhelm her.

"So, you and Freddie? What do I need to know?" Carly jokingly nudges her.

"When I'm ready, Shay." Sam smirks.