"Sam?" Freddie asked, dipping into the driver's seat.

"Stop talking to me," she muttered, staring out of the windshield.

"Why'd you run off back there?"

"What part of 'stop talking to me' didn't you get?"

He rolled his eyes, and fired up the ignition, beginning to drive down the road. "I will not stop talking to you."

Sam didn't respond, deciding the best way to handle an ignorant fool was to ignore them.

"So we're back to this…?" he muttered, catching her attention. Her ears perked up and she turned to face him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nevermind," he said, shaking his head and concentrating his gaze back on the road ahead of him.

"Tell me, Benson," she said, angrily. Whenever he didn't want to start a fight, she did. He says left, she says right. He says white, she says black. They couldn't agree on anything here lately and he hated that.

"I'm not having this argument right now." He said, firmly.

"Why wait?" She asked, still staring at him. "When it's bound to happen at some point."

He took in her words. She was so completely, absolutely, downright correct. It was bound to happen sooner or later. The two of them had always thought if they didn't let their stubbornness get in the way…if they didn't let their different personalities conflict…if they didn't use each other as a punching bag…, then maybe their relationship would get somewhere. Well, he was just now realizing that no matter how 'abnormal' or 'normal' the other got, it wouldn't change how often they fought.

Not to mention if they were to change, their relationship would get boring and to him, there was nothing worse than a monotonous relationship. It'd be like what he had with Carly and you see how that turned out.

They were Sam and Freddie for peace's sake. But just because it was bound to happen didn't mean they had to like it.

"We have some things to talk about that we never really solved with words." He spoke calmly, and she was surprised to say the least. She had expected him to either brush it off or tell her how wrong she was.

She shrugged, turning away from him. "Like what?"

"Like the time when you told me you were going to stay with Carly in New York," he sighed. "That was a mistake that I can't stand to think about."

She really didn't want to talk about the past right now. "Whatever."

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" She asked him, incredulously.

"You're…shutting me out again."

"Oh, so when I tell you to do things like stop talking to me, you don't comply, but when you tell me to stop doing things, I have to?"

And that would usually be the place he'd say something like 'I'm glad you get the concept' or 'It sounds so much better when you say it aloud', but he didn't. Now wasn't the time for arguments. His best friend—well now, best friends—were avoiding them at all cost. He didn't really see what was up with Carly. She and Gibby made a mistake, sure, but he really didn't see why Carly was so stuck on the idea of them not seeing her.

"We'll discuss this later," he let out, his concentration falling back on his and Sam's problems.

…

Sam's phone beeped in her hand and for a minute, she thought it was just Peyton or Brad, but was surprised when Carly's picture popped up on the screen.

For a quick moment, she couldn't process it. After she was just thinking about giving up on Carly, she calls her now? Of all times, why now? It was funny how after so long—about a month or longer—of waiting on Carly to return her calls, she calls now, right when Sam could care less. She had a long time to think about some things on the silent car ride, and she figured 'you know what. Who cares anymore?'

She thought if Carly didn't care enough about her, why should she keep stressing herself out if it was for nothing. Debating on whether or not she should answer, she looked over to Freddie who lay on the other side of the hotel bed. They had bought a hotel room booked for two nights—it was a long ride back to Massachusetts and they both, secretly, wanted to save that ride for when they really needed to discuss some things.

The phone had rung about three times now, and she gulped, as she pushed 'talk' and pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Sam!?"

She hadn't realized how great it felt to finally hear her best friend's voice again. She missed the panic in her voice.

"Yeah?"

"You guys have to get over here," she cried into the phone. "I'm sorry for not calling you guys and avoiding you but just please put that aside for now. I need you guys. We need you guys. Just please get over here!"

Sam frowned, standing up quickly. "Get over where!?"

But the phone beeped again, signaling Carly had hung up. She jumped back on the bed, and shook Freddie, frantically. "Freddie! Wake up! We have to go!"

"What? Go where?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. He then opened them fully and saw Sam's panic—stricken face. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Sam kept her eyes locked on what she was looking at. Right outside the hotel windows, she could make out a semi-truck and a 2010 green accord—Gibby's 2010 green accord—in the road, rolled over. She could also see a stout brunette on the ground, not hurt physically, but was most definitely shaken up. She could barely make out the body lying on the concrete, pools of blood encircling his head. She did however notice the body next to Carly on the ground, pools of blood also around his stomach.

Freddie still stared at her confused, not knowing she wasn't looking at him. He could feel the jitters in her hand and see the unresponsiveness in her eyes. Before he knew it, she had collapsed on the side of the bed, right in front of him.

"Sam!" He shook her but she stayed unresponsive. He frantically picked her up, rushing down all the stairs of the hotel until the lobby. "Someone call 911!" He said, and then ran out of the building, shouting the same thing. That's when he saw what Sam must've seen. The car crash. Carly over Gibby's unconscious body. Another body on the floor, bleeding out of the head. The cops surrounding both bodies.

His heart sped up and he stopped running, now slowing down, and falling to the ground in defeat. He was close enough to hear one cop announce something. Something that made his heart beat stop. Something that made him realize just how short life really was. "Time of death," he heard the cop say. "7:18 PM."

AN-Wow, even I didn't see that coming. Oh well, more interesting I guess now. Cliffhanger! By the way, when did this turn into a tragic story?

Review please! It would make me very, very, very happy =)