Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Chapter 12

Spencer was curled up with Whitney on his bed, enjoying one of his favorite stupid kung fu movies. Whitney, on the other hand, was not. "This movie is so stupid," she grumbled. "Can't we do something else?"

He rolled his eyes. She liked getting her way and wouldn't shut up until she got it. "What do you want to do instead?" he asked her, slight disappointment in his voice. He loved this movie.

A smug grin came across her face as she turned toward him. "What do you think I want to do?" she replied, climbing onto his lap and straddling him.

He smiled and replied, "Oh, I know what you want…" His lips took hers and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her body against his even more.

There was a loud bang from the main room and a weak voice called out, "Spence!"

He pushed Whitney back slightly so her lips disengaged his. "It's Sam," he told her. He looked her up and down, and his libido took over his brain. "I'll get rid of her," he added quickly and moved her off of him.

Spencer went out into the family room. Sam was standing there, barely standing there he should say. She could hardly stay upright. "Sam?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Her body wobbled and she gasped, "I… need… help…" Her legs fell from under her and she landed in a pile on the floor.

"Sam!" Spencer shouted, running towards her. He crouched down next to her, feeling her head. She was burning up. He felt her pulse. It was racing. That's when he saw it: blood seeping out of her side.

He panicked. She… she was going to die! "Whitney!" he shouted. "Get me a towel!"

Whitney came out of his bedroom, looking annoyed and confused. "What?" she snapped.

"Towel, now!" he demanded, pressing his hand against the bleed.

She disappeared into his bedroom and came back out, a towel in hand this time. She tossed it to him and stood back, her arms crossed over her chest. "Is she alright?" she asked, disinterested.

"Does she look alright?" he growled as he pressed the towel to Sam's wound. "Call 911."

"Where's the phone?" she replied, looking around the apartment.

"Talk into the chipmunk!" he replied, referring to the chipmunk phone he had made two years ago.

"What?" she snapped.

Spencer sighed, putting as much pressure as he could on her wound. He was not in the mood to deal with this. "Just use your cell, Whitney!"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Hell-ooo! Minutes!"

"Damn it, Whitney," he grumbled. "Forget 911." He scooped Sam up in his arms and rushed out the door. He was doing his best to stay calm. She was… she was bleeding so much. He wasn't sure if… if she was even going to make it. He skipped the elevator and bolted straight down the stairs.

It was a mad rush to the hospital. He must've broken at least ten laws. But he didn't care how much trouble he got into, he wanted to make sure that she would be safe.

"Eighteen year-old female, puncture wound to the lower left quadrant," the nurse called as she wheeled the gurney down the hall. She looked to Spencer. "When did this happen?"

Spencer was speechless. He had no idea when this had happened. "Uh, I don't know…"

The nurse cocked her eyebrow. "Are you family?"

He shook his head. "No, just a friend." It was hard for him to call himself just a friend because he considered her part of the family…

"You need to stay out here," the nurse told him before she disappeared with the gurney behind the doors, leaving him standing there, alone.

It was hours before Spencer knew anything. He had to field several calls from Whitney. She was getting annoyed that he was gone so long.

"Is anyone here for Samantha Puckett?" a man in a pair of scrubs asked as he entered the waiting room.

Spencer stood immediately. "That's me," he said, coming toward the man. "Is Sam okay?"

The man held out a hand to him. "Mr. Puckett," he started to say.

"Shay," Spencer interrupted. "I'm Spencer Shay. I'm a friend."

The man looked taken aback but still offered his hand. "Well, Mr. Shay, I'm Dr. Wilson. I'm Ms. Puckett's surgeon."

Spencer shook the doctor's hand energetically. "Is Sam alright?" he asked again.

He gave a small smile and a nod. "She's just fine. It was a fairly clean puncture, there were no complications in closing her back up. But I would say by the look of the wound, she was attacked."

His heart gave a lurch. This was no accident? She had been attacked? This… no, this wasn't happening… Who would do such a thing to her?

"Now," the doctor continued on, shaking Spencer from his thoughts, "it is a requirement by law that whenever a gunshot wound or a stab wound comes into the E.R., we have to report it to the police." He could see Spencer's worried face. "They will request to talk to you. But, Mr. Shay, if you are as innocent as you're acting, then you should have no problems."

"Right," he replied, barely loud enough for the other man to hear. Then he asked quickly, "When can I see Sam?"

The doctor smiled. "She's in recovery at the moment. We'll be moving her in about an hour, and then you can go see her." He patted Spencer's shoulder. He could obviously tell that Spencer was uneasy. "Go eat something, Son. You look exhausted." He gave him one more shoulder pat before disappearing back behind the doors.

Spencer wandered aimlessly into the cafeteria. Food didn't hold any allure to him at the moment… Maybe he was just too worried about Sam to eat anything.

He decided to call Whitney, to let her know exactly what was going on. "Hey, Babe," he replied when she answered. "She's out of surgery. Yeah, she's fine. No, she's in recovery now, I won't be able to see her for a while… I can't leave yet. No, I can't. The surgeon said something about it being a stab wound. Yeah, stabbed. Well, he said that they have to tell the police and they will want to talk to me. No, I can't leave. I don't know when I'll be able to come back. No. Hey, could you bring those containers of gravy from the fridge down here. What do you mean why? Hospital gravy sucks… Okay, see you later. Bye." Spencer said hurriedly as a uniformed man approached him.

"Spencer Shay?" the man asked.

"Yes," he replied, his palms starting to sweat. He couldn't control it, but he didn't know why. He had nothing to do with Sam's attack, she just happened to come to him for help. He would be fine.

"I'm Officer Jackson from the SPD," he replied. "Would you like to sit?"

They took a seat at the nearest table and Spencer asked, "This is about Sam, right?"

Officer Jackson nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I just need to ask you some questions."

"Sure," Spencer said. "Fire away."

The officer took a small notebook from his pocket and flipped it open. "Where were you at the time of the attack?" he asked, taking a pen from his other pocket.

"I was in my apartment in Bushwell Plaza with my girlfriend," he explained, twiddling his thumbs.

Jotting that down, he asked, "Then how did you happen to come across Ms. Puckett?"

Spencer bit his lip. He knew that this was going to be hard for the officer to believe. "She came to the apartment. She… she just came into the apartment and collapsed."

He scribbled that down before cocking an eyebrow at Spencer. "Why did she go to your place instead of somewhere else? Like her parents?"

He shrugged. "She doesn't have the greatest relationship with her parents. She's my little sister's best friend and so I've always let her come over when she needed to get away. She… she was probably on the way to my place..."

More writing. "Is there anyone who can confirm your whereabouts at the time of the attack?"

Spencer nodded. "My girlfriend, Whitney Baker. She should be on her way here if you need to talk to her."

He took note of that then said, "That won't be necessary, Mr. Shay." Holding out a hand, he added, "Thank you for your help."

He pumped the officer's hand in return. "You're welcome, anything to help."

Officer Jackson rose to his feet and left the room, leaving Spencer in peace. However, as soon as the officer left, Whitney showed up. "Why in the hell did you make me come all the way down here to bring you gravy?" she snapped as she set down the containers on the table.

"Nice to see you too, Baby," he shot back. "Thanks for bringing those." He forced a smile up at her.

"Why did you-" she started to say again, annoyed but cut off mid thought.

"She loves gravy," he interrupted simply. "Thought she might like to have some when she gets up. And like I said, hospital gravy sucks." He sighed. This was why he didn't want her there, she didn't understand anything about his friendship with Sam. "Thanks. I'm going to go see if I can see her now." He stood up, kissed her forehead and said, "You should go home. It may be a while."

"Gladly," she snapped, marching away.

Spencer let out an exasperated sigh. He wandered out of the cafeteria and up to the nurses' station. He asked one stout nurse hopefully, "Has Samantha Puckett been moved from recovery yet?"

The nurse checked the computer before replying, "Yes, she's in room 204B."

"Thank you," Spencer called back as he took off down the hallway. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see that she was okay…

The room was quiet. There were two beds, one empty, one holding the sleeping form of Sam. She looked weak, she didn't look like herself. Spencer walked slowly across the room to her bed, set the gravy on the nightstand, and leaned over her. She was so… he didn't even know how to describe her. She just looked… different.

He pressed his lips softly against her forehead. It was slightly warm but not very. "Please, Sam," he whispered as he pulled his lips away, "hold on."

The night was difficult. Spencer couldn't sleep, but at the same time, he could barely stay awake. He ran down to the gift shop and bought a few cards for her, mostly just so he had something to do.

He fell asleep around two in the morning, and when he woke up, Sam was still asleep. It was now that his stomach started growling. He needed food.

His stomach guided him to the cafeteria, helped him to choose food, and lead him back to the room. But he got a surprise when he came back: Sam was awake. She was trying to sit up, but Spencer insisted that she didn't.

His joy couldn't be measured. He was so happy that she was awake. Sitting and talking to her made him feel so much better. He explained what had happened, what he was thinking, and eventually, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tighter than ever before as she cried.

Spencer pulled himself out of his thoughts and stared at the sleeping girl in his arms. She had finally fallen asleep, snoring lightly, so he didn't have to pretend to be asleep anymore. He knew that she was out… "Yes, Sam," he whispered to her. "Those drawings do mean that I love you."

AN: Woot! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it is definitely the longest chapter by far. I worked very, very hard on it. This chapter was actually my boyfriend's idea, just so we could get more of an idea about Spencer's side of the story. So, anyways, please R&R!