Summary: When Carly, Sam, and Freddie buy a new video game from a shady shop, just how crazy will things get when they try to play it?

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't own iCarly and Kingdom Hearts. Stop rubbing it in. (iCarly is owned by Dan Schneider and Kingdom Hearts is owned by Tetsuya Nomaru.)

iFight For the Light: Chapter 11

The flight on the Gummi ship was interesting. It was really strange because as Gibby and Shane seemed to be having the time of their lives, I was scared stiff. I wasn't hopeless. I knew that I could do whatever I needed to. But I was still scared. There was just this feeling inside me—this feeling that said whatever was coming was something intense—something big.

Something I may not be ready for. But I was ready for it. I knew I was, yet I felt differently. Does that make any sense? Probably not. I don't blame you guys for not getting it. Everything I was thinking—everything I was feeling was so confusing. I can't begin to explain everything that was running through my head, but I can give you the quick rundown—there was a lot of Carly, a lot of Freddie, a lot of memories, and a lot of fear.

Fear's something that, if you noticed, I've never really been big on. That's why I was trying to think through circumstances in which all of this stuff could be worked out. And even when I hit a dead-end in my thoughts—even when one train of thoughts left Carly looking dead, and left Freddie acting like a jerk, I just jumped onto another one. That's how I occupied my time. Instead of playing cards and talking about school like Gibby and Shane were.

Like I said, there was no doubt in my mind that somehow everything would turn out okay. So why wasn't I acting like Gibby and Shane? Why wasn't I able to just relax?

Boy, there's a big nagging question that keeps coming up a lot: 'Why?' I was getting sick of it, but there was no getting away from the stupid word. The 'why's kept coming on this journey whether I wanted them to or not.

But at least the Gummi ship was safe. It was powered by the gifts of our friends back in Traverse Town. I smiled at the thought that I even began to consider Mrs. Benson among them. She really did care, you know? She cared when Spencer had given me that beat-down outside. She cared when I had fainted and she kneeled right in front of me. And she cared so much that she apparently waited right over me to wake up. She probably wasn't too different in the real world, either. But I would never give her the chance to prove that. I already had a mother back home. And I had Carly. I think two mom's are enough for me, thank you very much. But I'll still probably see her in a different light when we get back.

The thought that I used the word 'when' and not the word 'if' only brightened my spirits more. And I sighed contently as I pulled my knees to my chest.

I let myself fall over onto my side—the floor was surprisingly comfortable and inviting—but I was only resting. I still had so much more to do—I couldn't sleep now. I just spent the rest of the smooth trip in thought as Shane and Gibby laughed and played along, their voices just soothing background music in my mind.

When the Gummi ship comes to a smooth stop, I hear Gibby and Shane groan in annoyance. Something about how they had a bet running on that game. Yeah, nice, guys—we're heading into the realm of darkness and you're gambling. And then I get to thinking…that probably would've been me if I hadn't gone through all the stuff I did on this journey. I'd be the one betting and playing cards during a crisis. This thing…it's really changed me. And I normally don't like change, but I'm okay with this.

Don't get me wrong; I'm still the same old Sam Puckett. I'm just a little…wiser, I guess.

As we step out of the ship, I see that we're on this crystal platform. But it's not the only one. There are about 5 of them jutting out of the ground that lead to a floating stone area. I look down to see that underneath us there's water, but it's black. The water is literally pitch-black. There's no way to see what's under it, but then again I don't really want to find out.

"Hey! What's going on up there?" Gibby yells, pulling me out of my thoughts.

He's pointing to the stone platform. When I look up there, I can see two people staring off. One of them looks familiar, but I can't really place his face from this far away. But the other, I know without a doubt is Freddie. He's got this blade in his hand that looks like a wing. Have I ever mentioned that this place is super strange?

Suddenly, the guy I don't completely recognize jumps at Freddie with his fists raised high. And as I'm about to yell for Freddie to get out of the way, I realize he's not the one I should be calling to. Because at that moment, he slashes with his blade, sending the other guy flying. "Whoa!" I yell.

"Freddie just slashed that guy in the face!" shouts Gibby while pointing.

I'm frozen stiff. In danger or not, Freddie wouldn't do that. He wouldn't have hurt someone that way. He might've defended himself, but not deliberately tried to leave a mark. I mean, I know he used to fence and all, but that was all just sport and playing around. This was real.

Shane's looking around frantically until he finally speaks. "We gotta go help the guy!" he yells, and then starts jumping to the stone area.

I'm brought out of my trance again and nod, following with Gibby at my side.

We make it to the platform and I run to the guy. Aw man. A small pool of blood surrounds the dude's head. But as I get closer to take a look at him, he weakly manages to pull his head up. There's a gash over his face, but that mug was unmistakable. My eyes widen. "Jonah?"

His eyes squint. He must be close to passing out, but before he does, he's able to mutter out my name in question. Then, of course, his head hits the floor, but just his recognition of me and my voice—that tells me that it's really him. I'm not sure why he's here or what he's even doing here, but it's really Jonah.

And even though I hate the guy and what he did to me, I can't help but feel concerned for him. "Freddie, why…?" I begin, not even looking at him.

He slides a hand into his pocket, casually. The blood's still looming ominously on the blade he holds, and Freddie ignores my question. "About time you showed up," he said as if we'd caused him some inconvenience. "I mean, I knew you'd follow me. I just thought it'd be quicker than this."

I'm silent. I'm waiting for the dork to answer my stupid question, already.

But he doesn't. Instead he just goes on. "You're like a kid, you know?" he asks. "Just use reverse psychology on them and it works like a charm."

I know that's not why he wanted us to come here. I told you, I just felt it in the way he spoke. This wasn't the real answer. This wasn't the real Freddie talking. Right now, he was being used as a puppet by the darkness, and I knew that. So I didn't even address his insults. All I did was ask again, "Freddie, why did you do that to Jonah?" But this time, I turned to him when I said it.

The smirk he was wearing fell, and he gave me that glare that he seemed to reserve especially for me. "Valerie was right," he says for the second time today, shaking his head. "You don't have what it takes to save Carly. You worry too much about others and lose sight of your priorities. But that's just like you," Freddie scoffs. "Only the true keyblade wielder can open the door to Kingdom Hearts! And that's me."

So the thing he was holding was a keyblade.

Wait, what?

"What are you talking about?" I ask, taken aback. "I'm the one with the keyblade. I was the one to fight my whole way here with it! I was the one who got it on the island. And I was the one it returned to when Spencer showed me what would happen if anyone tried to take it from me. So, I'm the true keyblade wielder. It chose me." I nod. I can definitely feel the tension boiling up inside me—anger rising within me. Who did he think he was? I was the one who had to go through all this stuff. All this struggle, and loss, and now he thinks he's the hero. But the look on his face says he doesn't think he's the hero, he knows he is.

Freddie's smirk slowly returns and he laughs at my statement. "No, Sam," he says shaking his head. His tone is so patronizing! It makes me just want to knock him to the floor and start punching the heck out of his stupid face. "You were just the messenger. Bringing the keyblade to its rightful owner."

My face tightens into a glare, and I can't help but shout. "I don't think so, dork!"

Freddie grins and I see his eyebrow twitch in intrigue. "Yeah?" he asks while holding up his blade and getting into a stance. "Prove it," he spits the words at me.

Instantly, I run at him with a battle cry, swinging. It was a reckless move, but then again, I was a reckless kind of gal.

But it was the wrong reckless move. Freddie ducks and swings a leg out, tripping me. He tries to come down on me with his keyblade but I quickly roll out of the way. My keyblade's more for smashing, but his is for cutting. If I had been hit…well, let's just say I'm lucky I moved.

He tries to slash me again, but I've just about regained my composure. And I'm able to block his hit by holding my keyblade in my hands horizontally. Good! That caught him off guard!

Freddie stumbles back and I instantly run towards him before he can balance himself and begin a barrage of slashes a la Spencer Shay.

He's hit, over and over and over again, unable to block one single slash. Freddie's at the edge of the platform now, and he tries to trip me again. I was able to evade it, but I still stumbled backward, and that threw me off my game.

Gibby and Shane call my name from the sidelines, but I yell at them to stay back—this is my fight and my fight alone.

In this time, Freddie tries to slash right into my chest, probably thinking I was distracting but I block him. Spencer's words echoed in my head. "Well, we know you have blocking down. Now try attacking!" My face is stern as I give a nod—here we go, Spencer—and I swing at Freddie.

He jumps over my keyblade—not only to dodge my attack but also to launch an attack of his own. But I quickly recover, and in a move that surprises him, I swing my keyblade and knock his legs out from underneath him. Freddie falls, just barely clinging to the high stone platform by his fingertips.

I feel my face go blank then. In that moment, I want to be unfeeling—so that I could do what I thought was right. I walk closer to the edge slowly—emotionlessly—and raise my foot, so that I can step on his fingers, causing him to fall.

But then I see his face. He's looking back and forth between the far-off pitch-black abyss of water and me. And it's at this time that I realize nothing's changed. He's still that frightened kid that I gave wedgies to, knocked down in hallways, and chased around the room. Granted, he's bigger now, and kind of acting like a jerk at the moment…but he's still Freddie.

I feel my face soften. This was not the right thing to do. And if I had acted immediately—recklessly—like I normally do, I would've never seen that.

I slowly lower my foot back to the ground, and reach out a hand to my favorite tech nerd and punching bag that's ever existed.

Now, it's my turn to be shocked. Because as I'm bringing him up, he swings his legs and kicks me right in the stomach, sending me flying back and to the ground.

He lands on the platform on his feet, and with that all-too-familiar smirk, speaks. "I've picked up a few new tricks from this place, too."

My keyblade had slid out of my grasp when I had flown backwards, so as he's coming towards me, slowly, I know exactly what he's going for.

I want to get up, and just grab it before he does, but I'm too shocked to move. He actually knocked me back, and that thought terrifies me as I replay it in my mind. I know now for sure without a doubt that Freddie's not the one in control here—that the darkness has a tight hold over him.

I reach out my hand, so that this way, the keyblade will teleport back to me before he can get to it.

But that's when I realized—as his gaze stayed on mine, and he walked right, instead of left where my weapon had landed—that he wasn't aiming for my keyblade. He was trying to—crunch.

I tried not to cry out as Freddie stepped on my right hand. My face scrunched and I bit my lip to try to muddle through the pain.

Gibby and Shane gasp from the sidelines.

"Sam!" Gibby calls.

"Let her go!" Shane yells as they both try to run to me.

But Freddie puts up a hand and instantly, they're trapped inside this floating dark bubble.

I look to them, but I'm in too much pain. I can't do anything!

"You don't care about Carly," Freddie says darkly as he steps deeper into my hand.

I can't help but let out a moan as it feels like the stone is melding with my palm. And I pound the ground with my left fist, trying to let out some of the adrenaline that my body is producing because of my situation and pain.

"And you don't care about me," he says, sounding even angrier as he presses deeper still.

I want to yell to him that he's wrong—that he's wrong about everything, but I can't. All my energy is currently being used to stop myself from yelling. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of letting him hear that he's causing me pain. Though he probably sees it clearer than anything written on my face. I can still hear Gibby and Shane's muffled shouting in the background as Freddie switches up into shouting himself.

"You don't care about anything!" he yells. "You just pretend like you do! Well, your fakeness isn't gonna help you anymore." He huffs out air like steam as he presses his foot deeper into my hand and shouts at the top of his lungs. "I'm saving Carly and you're not getting in my way!"

I heard a sickening crack at that moment, and a blood-curdling scream. It was only as I felt the tears on my cheeks that I even knew the scream had come from my own lips.

Freddie's eyes widened and he stumbled back as I quickly withdrew my arm to cradle my now broken hand.

Gibby and Shane shout my name louder than ever from their bubble-prison, and bang on its walls to no avail.

Freddie's regained composure by now and he flicks his wrist, making the cage with my only allies in it disappear. "Your journey's over now, Sam," he says quietly after a pause that had only been filled by the sound of my sobbing.

I wasn't even sure why it hurt that much. I'd broken bones before, and I'd never reacted this way. Sure I'd spout a few unintelligible words, but I would never cry, let alone sob. So what was different now? Was it because Freddie did it to me? And did it hurt so much because he was one of my best friends…or was it because I was pretty sure I had been starting to—

"Here," he calls, slicing through my thoughts. "I think I found a weapon you might actually be able to handle." I look up as I see a wooden sword thrown on the ground in front of my face. My keyblade suddenly shimmers and appears in Freddie's empty hand.

I lost it…How? How could this happen?

"So long, Sam." He turns his back to me.

But I'm not giving up so easy. "This isn't the end, Freddie!" I yell out, pushing through all of my tears to make my voice sound strong—like it needs to be right now; like I need to be right now, even though it feels impossible.

He only turns his head back to me and his expression is blank. "Who said it had to be?"

And then, he disappears. And I'm left there at the center of the platform, with nothing but the whistling wind to keep me company.

Suddenly, Freddie's whispering voice sounds in my head; it's low, though—almost inaudible, but I can hear genuine emotion drip from every word.

Sam…I'm so sorry…

--

AN: So, how was Chapter 11? There's really not much to say about this one. I know it's a bit shorter than the last few, but there really was no better place to end it. I know it was definitely upsetting, but I hoped you all enjoyed reading it regardless. Don't hate me for this chapter, please =/ Trust me—it will get better. Once again, thank you for all your past reviews and faves and watches. I really appreciate all of them, and remember that you're all the reasons why I'm keeping at this thing. So, yeah, hope you all enjoyed reading chapter 11, and I look forward to seeing your comments and opinions in your reviews. Until next time,

-Fictions