The Two Columns: Rise and Fall - Part One

The second column had indeed begun its ascent. Perhaps Freddie knew it even then, somewhere deep inside of his gut. Things had changed once again between him and his blonde-headed nightmare. His eyes had been fully opened to the fact that Sam was a female. A female who wielded a deadly power to both enrage and attract him. Freddie never looked at her the same way following The Candy Cane Twirl. No matter how hard he tried.

That night, as he laid in bed, he couldn't last more than five minutes without flipping from his right side to his left, or vice versa. The image of Sam with her hair shielding half of her face, leaving only a single blue eye staring at him in a way he couldn't even being to understand. The feel of her fingertips on the back of his neck. His boldness, his confidence as he took one of her small hands in his and spun her around. The way her lithe form had evoked such fleeting, yet intense desire.

"Fine," Freddie growled as he glanced at his clock and saw that yet another half-hour had gone by. His gaze traveled to the ceiling of his room. Above it, he imagined the starlit sky. "Good job, bravo, well-done," he said. He aimed this at all forms of higher authority. "You made me want her. For a very brief moment, you made me want her. I concede the point. Sam Puckett is kind of hot."

Freddie rolled his eyes. He dug his nose into his pillow. Still, it was just hormones. Just hormones. Lot's of girls have been doing that to me lately.

Ah, but not Carly, Dark Freddie said. Oh no, with her your feelings are sooooo polite. Proper kisses on the mouth. But the blonde, oh. She made you want to do such naughty things.

Knock it off! Freddie told his dark alter-ego. He shifted, pressing the soft comfort of his pillow against his cheek. I like Carly for more than just her looks. My feelings for her are just more balanced, that's all.

Finally, it seemed sleep was ready to claim Freddie. He felt himself dipping closer to that precipice, beyond which awaited the ocean-deep pit of unconsciousness. As he drifted off, his thoughts criss-crossed and stumbled onward.

Not falling for Puckett. Just hormones. Chemicals. Don't like her like that. Never...will. Told the gods. Freddie bear likes...brunettes. Love...can't come... …from lust.

That night, Freddie had his nightmare again. Not that he remembered. But from this point forward, he would find himself bursting awake, bathed in sweat, with increasing frequency.

Over the next several months...

Freddie Benson was sitting on his stool in Environmental Science, daydreaming, when Mr. Henning called on him.

"Freddie, is something bothering you?"

Freddie, who had been staring at Carly and dreaming about her for nearly the thousandth time, shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"No."

The fourteen year-old stood not far from the entrance to Hey Food, shopping list in hand and grumbling. Roughly eighteen months ago, his least favorite thing in the world would have been spending an afternoon with Sam Puckett. Nowadays, his least favorite thing in the world had to be shopping. Like having two girls for best friends didn't make him feminine enough. But, when you lived in a single-parent household and said parent was prone to working long, unexpected shifts at the hospital, what could you do?

Freddie may not have disliked shopping so much if it weren't for his mother's insane grocery lists. Not a single item on there was free from some kind of addendum. And how did she expect him to stay away from high-fructose corn syrup? They put that stuff in everything these days. Nevertheless, Marissa Benson warned him in red ink about the pronounced spike in blood sugar produced by the substance, and even cited scientific literature to support her claims.

With a final sigh, he had every intention of beginning his journey in the baked goods section (one loaf of no less than seven multi-grain bread) when something out of his periphery stopped him. He looked to his right and saw a cardboard stand that held numerous twenty-count packages of candy canes. Leftovers from Christmas. Fifty percent off.

Freddie wheeled his shopping cart over to the stand. He picked up one of the packages and flipped it over, so he could inspect the nutrition facts. The first ingredient was high-fructose corn syrup.

The Benson boy stared at the package a long time. He and Sam had danced The Candy Cane Twirl less than two weeks ago. Ever since then, Freddie had been having the strangest hankering for candy canes.

The package got tossed in the shopping cart.

Construction to rebuild the wall that had been demolished by Pam Puckett's car took about a week. During this period, Freddie and Sam had been relocated back to their old lockers. So much for living the life out of legendary locker 239.

So much for Freddie's money as well.

At first, Freddie had been relieved. It was nice to be able to do what he wanted with his locker when he wanted. He and Sam never would have lasted long as locker-mates anyway. Their styles were way too different. Sooner or later, they would have killed each other.

Within a couple of weeks however, Freddie found that he sort of missed sharing storage space with the blonde. Peace and quite was nice, but after a while it became boring.

With Sam Puckett around, things never got boring.

Sometimes, with Sam Puckett around, things became the very opposite of boring. They became very, very un-boring.

Last night, the blonde had planted another one right on his very own two lips. What had she done? He thought they had only done it the first time just to get it over with. But now? She had just broken all the rules, rules that she herself had agreed upon.

It angered him. She had been acting different all week. Sam didn't like stripes. Sam didn't conduct pleasant conversations with him, Sam didn't dance with him unless fatcakes were in order, and Sam definitely didn't kiss him out of intrinsic desire.

He wanted his friend back. He wanted Sam back. And he had tried getting her back, oh how he had tried. He had ragged on her about this whole 'Melanie' business almost nonstop, and did everything possible get her to snap out of it. He even wore a stupid striped shirt and reminded her how she always hated him (this was a bit of an overstatement, but heck, whatever it took).

Mostly, he wanted her to stop taking things so far. So far in her bid to fool him that she actually feigned interest in him. Because she confused him when she did this. Because she kissed him again, even though now it couldn't be just to get it over with. Because after she kissed him, in those awful, nerve-wracking, and wonderful seconds afterward, for the briefest of instants, he had wanted her to kiss him again. And again. And again.

So he ran away.

So he came back, into the Shay's loft to confront her, though he pretended to come in for something else.

And he was successful. After combating her for the millionth time that week, she finally admitted that the whole thing was a sham. She even acknowledged his intellectual superiority.

Now, as Freddie exited the Shay's en route to his own apartment, he couldn't help but feel a savage sense of victory. For once, he had gotten the upper hand on Sam Puckett.

At the same time, he couldn't help but also feel a tiny stab of disappointment. He had won. Sam had come on to him just to fool him. But that was just it. Sam had come on to him. Just to fool him. Was it so wrong to feel mildly miffed at this? To feel, almost...cheated?

Victory and disappointment grappled within Freddie's skull as he crossed the hallway. Personally, he rooted for victory. When his hand had reached the doorknob to 8-D however, victory lost. He hung his head in the air.

He had to go back. Like it or not, he had to talk to Sam about this. He didn't know what he was going to say. All he did know was that lately, being around Sam sometimes made him feel a little...strange. Maybe, if he could figure out some way to talk about this without actually talking about it (this was Sam after all), it would help.

Also, since she had kissed him twice now and was the only girl to have done so, he deserved to know whether he was any good at it.

When Freddie opened the door to the Shay's, he saw that Sam and Carly were gone. A great weight lifted from Freddie's chest. It appeared he wouldn't have to go through with it after all. At least not today. I guess I can wait a little longer to talk to her. I probably won't be able to get a word in edgewise anyway.

Freddie would have to wait nearly a year before he had his 'talk' with Sam. He would get more than a word in edgewise, and it would take place during a rather violent thunderstorm.

Later that night, something occurred to Freddie. He had grown wise to the fact that when he experienced those odd chest pains, they only happened in the presence of Sam. But on several occasions over the past week, he had been with the blonde and hadn't felt a thing. Not anytime during their date, when they danced or even when they kissed.

Well, looks like my Sam-induced acid-reflux has finally vanished.

How very wrong he was.

The shopping cart trundled across the tile floor of Hey Food. It's owner guided it purposefully to the dry foods section. On the third shelf, next to the packages of peanut-butter crackers, rested the intent of purchase. This item wasn't on the grocery list of the person pushing the shopping cart, but that failed to make it any less important.

"Sure are buying a lot of junk food lately, aren't you Freddie?" asked Maude, the old clerk who handled just about every transaction Freddie had made at Hey Food since the dawn of time. She squinted from behind her spectacles, reading the label of a particular item. Porta-bacon. The bacon you can eat right out of the bag. "Any reason why?"

Freddie's composure remained nonchalant.

"None in particular."

Freddie Benson was sitting on his stool in Environmental Science, daydreaming, when Mr. Henning called on him.

"Freddie, is something bothering you?"

Nothing was bothering Freddie until Mr. Henning had interrupted him. Once Mr. Henning had, Freddie realized that yes, something was in fact bothering him.

He had been daydreaming about Carly of course. But, against his own will, those daydreams were themselves interrupted by different ones. Ones featuring a certain blonde-haired girl, who occupied a stool at the lab station two rows behind him. These daydreams weren't romantic per se, but they were kind of distracting.

Not knowing what else to do, Freddie shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"No."

Thank God for puberty. Had it not been for that upsurge in testosterone, Freddie may not have been able to out-wrestle Carly. If he had been unable to out-wrestle Carly, then he never would have gotten the upper hand on her, and she may have called Sam right there and then and spilled the beans. And if this had happened, Sam would have squished the stuffing out of Freddie, like a toddler who plays too hard with a teddy-bear.

For now, Sam didn't know that Carly knew that he and Sam had kissed. This meant Freddie was safe. At least for now. He'd have to keep a close eye on Carly to make sure things stayed that way. Not only did Freddie want to avoid getting destroyed however; he didn't want to break his promise to Sam. Oddly, that vow they had made on that night resonated with him, and he felt honor-bound to uphold it. Plus, he and Sam didn't seem to fight as much these days, and Freddie found that he liked that.

Freddie stopped his ruminating. A very unsettling thought popped into his mind. He froze. Physically froze.

He and Carly had just been rolling on the floor. In very compromising positions. In very sensual positions. The kind of positions that should have pumped his blood so much with primal lust, he shouldn't have been able to see straight. Yet...

I didn't feel anything. Freddie had been so focused on retaining his secret, he had not felt one ounce of attraction toward the brunette, who was supposedly the love of his life. But with Sam, while they twirled in front of those big speakers with candy canes perched in their mouths...

True, he had been distracted during his struggle with Carly, and true, his feelings for Carly were, as he put them, more mature. Even Freddie had to admit though, that this line of reasoning could only be stretched so far.

"Hey."

Sam turned around to face Freddie. The two were standing outside of 8-C, tape-free at last. Thanks were in order to the blonde's newly refurbished teeth. Their secret had been spilled, and Sam had come within a hair's length of beating Freddie to a pulp, but at least they were no longer restricted.

Sam looked at Freddie. She waited for him to continue.

The question burning inside of Freddie could be held at bay no more. Ever since the blonde (or was it her twin sister; he was beginning to have his suspicions) had kissed him during that date, the question boiled with an increasingly uncomfortable heat. It had to come out. Maybe now, he could finally have that talk with Sam.

"So did you like it?"

The blonde peered at Freddie questionably, but Freddie narrowed his eyes at her in response. She wasn't playing dumb with him. She knew what he was talking about, and he knew that she knew what he was talking about.

"Look, I know we've avoided it. I know it makes you uncomfortable. It makes you feel any better, it makes me a little uncomfortable too. But Sam, if we keep locking it away like this, I don't think it's going to do either one of us a whole lot of good. The thing is..." Freddie's frustration became evident in his eyes and his voice. "The thing is I kind of want to know too, okay?"

A dark look inhabited Sam's features. She could play dumb, or defensive, or uncaring, or any number of methods she had devised over the years to maintain her walls. But at the end of the day, Freddie's question would linger in the air, like an annoying feather that no amount of wind could blow away. Emotions competed on her countenance. Lines appeared and reappeared. Having her and Freddie's secret exposed like that had not put her in a good mood.

"Yes, alright?" Sam snapped. "I liked it! Does that make you happy?"

Sam spun on her heel and stormed away. Freddie wanted to call out, but just then, a bright bolt of pain, stronger than any he had yet experienced, hit him square in the chest. It stunned him for a second. He quickly recovered however, not wanting Sam to get out of sight.

"I-I liked it too!"

The blonde stopped. A few seconds passed, and she didn't appear to be moving anytime soon. Encouraged, Freddie walked up to her and kept talking.

"I liked it too," he repeated. "I know it sounds stupid, but I've been worrying a lot about it since then. I thought that..." Freddie trailed off. He sighed. "I thought that I might be really bad at it."

Sam turned around. Freddie was standing right in front of her now. The blonde rolled her eyes. "You're such a dimbo Benson."

Freddie stared at her. She had effectively broken his train of thought.

"It's not about how good you are at it," Sam said, as if believing the contrary was incredibly stupid. "It's...you know... ...who you're doing it with."

Sam's eyes went to the side after she had said this. She became extremely quiet. Freddie became quiet as well. The silence between the two was so palpable. So loud. Inside their heads however, Sam's statement buzzed like industrial lawn equipment.

"Wanna go get a smoothie?" Sam asked in a flat voice.

"Yes please," came Freddie's hollow reply. Any suggestion seemed like a good idea, given the intense, awkward silence that had just passed.

The two walked down the hall, quiet still, though no longer awkwardly so. Sam eventually broke the ice again.

"You did take a long time to lean though."

"It was my first time. At least my lips didn't taste like meatballs!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

It wasn't quite the talk Freddie had wanted. He felt better though afterward. For now anyway.

From that day forward, Freddie and Sam began to hang out together a lot more.

Inside room 8-C, Carly was sitting on the couch. The one her, Sam and Freddie always sat on. Carly sat on that couch, thinking, until she whipped out her phone and saw that she had lost track of time.

Carly was walking down the eighth floor, heading back to the loft. She had the munchies, so she went to the vending machine to grab a snack. Normally she'd eat whatever Spencer bought, but there was nothing in the fridge or in the cupboards, and it just felt plain wrong to watch television without nibbling on a treat. When she reached the intersection between 8-C and 8-D, the door to Freddie's apartment swung open.

"Oh, hey Freddie," Carly said upon seeing her friend. No doubt, the boy had been waiting for her return through his peephole, and now he wanted to join her in whatever she had been doing. Carly didn't mind. His crush had toned down significantly, and she had gotten sort of used to it. Freddie had mellowed out a lot since they begun shooting the webshow. He had always been a buddy, but now, she regarded him as more of an equal.

In other words, Freddie was growing up.

"Celebrities Underwater is on five minutes. Wanna come in?"

The Benson boy-soon-to-be-man shook his head. "Sorry," he said, sincerely enough, "but I told Sam I was going to meet her at Inside Out Burger."

Carly frowned. "When did you and Sam start meeting at Inside Out Burger?"

Freddie shrugged. "I dunno. We always go there Tuesday night." Freddie withdrew his attention from Carly to his Pear Phone, which he held in his hands. He smirked at the text message he received. It was from Sam. "I'll be back in an hour or so. I'm sure Sam will want to come by afterward."

Carly watched as Freddie shot her his usual, Freddie-smile, and then made his way down the hall, punching the keys on his phone.

How can they argue every day and hang out at the same time? And why didn't Sam tell me about this? The three of us always hang out together.

The brunette supposed that she was still paranoid after finding out that Sam and Freddie had covered up their kiss. Those two had sort of become friends. In their own, dysfunctional way. On second thought, perhaps it wasn't so unusual that they did something without her.

Yeah, I'm just being paranoid. Carly laughed to herself as she went to open the door to 8-C. Freddie should spend some time around another girl. He should...stop thinking about me so much.

Her gaze traveled to the floor.

Because I'll never feel the same way about him. And that will never change.

Freddie didn't think he could take another second of this movie. Slumbering in Seattle had to be one of the stupidest films ever made. He found it odd that Carly could lambaste cheesy romance flicks, and even parody them on iCarly, yet enjoyed so-called serious romance pictures like this one. It seemed that lately, he was finding out a lot of things about Carly that he thought were odd. Things he had never noticed before.

A buzzing emanated in Freddie's pocket. He withdrew his Pear phone from his jeans and clicked the touchscreeen with a finger. The contents of a text message filled the display.

'Kill me. Now.'

Freddie smirked. The message was from Sam. He couldn't see the blonde since she was sitting on the other side of Carly, who was sitting in between Sam and Freddie. Freddie was about to punch in a response when his phone buzzed again. Another message from Sam.

'Would it kill Carly if we let her enjoy this alone?'

The smile on the Benson boy's face deepened.

X

"Hehe. It's Boogie time."

On-screen, the diabolical form of Boogie Bear closed in on the woman, a big-breasted blonde, who was pinned against a wall with her hands shielding her face.

"Now that's more like it," Sam said.

"Totally," Freddie agreed.

Before he even knew what was happening, Freddie's left arm extended. It had almost reached the back of Sam's chair when its owner stopped it. Freddie nearly laughed out loud. Thank God she didn't see that. Thinking it had just been a reflex, he put his left arm back on his lap, where it belonged.

He could not believe it. He could NOT believe it. It had been just him and Carly left at The Groovy Smoothie, after Magic Malika had disappeared (literally) and Carly had shouted Austin out the door.

'And then there were two,' he had said.

'Yeah,' Carly replied. 'Thank God.'

Carly's response was what really motivated him. Never before had she expressed gratitude at being alone with him. This puzzled one part of Freddie's mind. It seemed sort of out of character for his dark-haired friend. The other part of Freddie's mind though, the one that clung onto a somewhat diminished yet strong crush on Carly, overpowered the puzzled part and went in for the kill.

So now they swayed, toe-to-toe. No one would have ever bet on it, but Carly Shay had willingly, almost happily, agreed to dance with Fredward Benson. In an even more shocking development, she actually nestled her head against his shoulder. It was the first step. After years of constant, gut-wrenching rejection, Freddie had finally set one foot in the door. He knew it would happen. It was love at first sight; it had to mean something. And oh sweet heavens, he had been right all along. Hallelujah! Even T-bo had acknowledged it. He had smiled at him, knowingly, and turned up the music just like he road only became easier from here. Pretty soon their friendship would blossom, and they'd be spending all their time together, and they'd watch movies late at night, and hold hands once or twice just to try it out, and...

And...

And...

And why am I not more excited? Freddie practically screamed inside his head. He was content. He was happy. He was perhaps a little nervous, as he usually was at being in close proximity with females. But somehow his body had betrayed him. His heart wasn't pounding, his blood wasn't rushing, and he wasn't bursting at the seams with overwhelming joy.

This doesn't make sense. As he and Carly rocked side to side, the smile that had been on his lips vanished. His momentary happiness began to fade. I know I should be more excited. I WANT to be more excited. But for some reason, I just can't. Am I just in shock? And...and WHY, why NOW of all times, have I just started thinking about candy canes again?

A red hot poker stuck Freddie in the chest. The Benson boy yelped and released Carly.

"Freddie?" Carly exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

Freddie's heart-rate tripled briefly, then returned to a more normal clip. Just one of his chest pains. He had talked to his doctor again about it recently, and the doctor had assured Freddie that they were probably caused by benign palpitations, which apparently were quite common in males his age. Nothing to be worried about.

Wait a minute. Chest pains? He searched the surrounding area, expecting to see a mane of blonde hair. He found no such thing. That's odd. I could have sworn they only happen when she's around.

"Freddie!" Carly's sharp voice pierced Freddie's thoughts. Shaken out his reverie, he glanced at the brunette. Concern lined her features. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Freddie said. "I thought I heard someone say my name."

"There's no one else here," Carly insisted. She could not suppress the thinnest sliver of irritation. Not just at the fact that Freddie was obviously lying to her, or that he looked like he might have been hurt. But that in spite of herself, she was kind of enjoying their dance.

Their dance was just a warm-up.

After Freddie pushed Carly out of the way and saved her life, the brunette fell for him like a ton of bricks. Gone were her wishes for Freddie to spend more time around 'another girl.' Even her mild enjoyment over dancing really close to the tech producer at the Groovy Smoothie had dissipated. Now, she just wanted to suck his lips off. How very funny life was. That she had fallen for him after all.

By the first kiss, Freddie knew something was...off. It just didn't seem right. Where had all this affection come from? He wanted to believe that Carly had been repressing it all these years, and that now it was finally pouring out, but even that one part of Freddie, that part that clung onto that dwindling crush, knew this wasn't the case.

So like Lord Gibson had once suggested, Freddie decided to stop worrying about 'the chicks.' Instead, he relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy his new relationship with Carly. He did a pretty good job of this. Until Sam called him the boy-equivalent of bacon.

Freddie Benson was sitting on his stool in Environmental Science, thinking, when Mr. Henning called on him.

"Freddie, is something bothering you?"

Something was sure as heck bothering Freddie. Ten minutes ago, Sam had just told him he was a slab of meat. That the love of his life was not in love with him, but only thought she was. His dream-come-true was slowly turning into a nightmare. Like the ones he suspected he got in the middle of the night, but could never remember.

And oh, how his heart hurt when Sam looked him in the eyes and told him about Carly.

The best that he could, Freddie shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"No."

To be continued...

Disclaimer - I do not own iCarly, it's characters, nor any other shows, characters, music, and/or movies that may be referenced.

AN: This chap was a bit different, but I think the story was ready for it and I hoped you guys liked it. I had wanted to make it one chap, but it just got away from me. The next part will pick up right where this one left off. After next chapter will be another two-parter, followed by build-up chapter, and THEN, what will be the beginning of what will probably be the three-part finale. I have a pretty clear vision of the rest of the story, and I really think you guys are going to like it. The pace will pick up, and the story will get more intense at parts, but never fear my lovelies. Old Arch knows exactly what he's doing, mwahaha. Thank you again for all the feedback!