Happy New Year! Enjoy...

Freddie POV 2:48AM Day 13

It had been a long night. Mom had made a valiant effort to force me to bed at nine o'clock, but I had resisted until she had finally given up. To my surprise, she hadn't gone to bed, instead choosing to doze off and eventually fall into a deep sleep on the kitchen table where I was. I read for hours, but if felt like minutes, precious minutes that couldn't last long enough. Dad wrote very well, even though the letters were styled as a journal entry for his own personal use. Each letter had four to twelve journal entries, but the majority had been sent on a weekly basis. They were sometimes humorous, sometimes somber, at times thought provoking, but always uniquely branded by him. He talked about everything: computers, war, his buddies, books, death, movies, music, Seattle, etc. I'm fairly certain he talked about every topic on Earth, even reaching out to space in a few of his more interesting letters. But every letter, every single one, ended with at least a paragraph addressed to us personally.

Mom snorts in her sleep, muttering something incomprehensive, and I finish the last letter. I'd like to say my eyes were completely dry, but I'd have never told a bigger lie. Counting the letters as I carefully place them back in the box, I frown.

"Mom." I murmur, shaking her arm gently. She jumps to wakefulness and I shush her to calm her down. "It's okay, it's okay. Is a letter missing?" I whisper, hoping Mom can understand through her sleepiness.

"Oh." She breathes deeply, rubbing her eyes and getting to her feet. I hesitate when she exits the kitchen, seemingly knowing exactly what I was talking about. I decide to follow her: down the narrow hallway and into her obsessively clean bedroom. She reaches under her pillow, pulling out a piece of paper and holding it to her chest. Mom closes her eyes, humming softly to herself. It's not a familiar tune, but it's so enchantingly heartbreaking that I couldn't interrupt her if I wanted to. She finally wrenches the letter away from her chest, the effort required for such a simple task seemingly superhuman. As if she's offering her heart, Mom proffers the letter with labored breaths and sightless eyes. I take it hesitantly, the date branding itself in my brain. It was the last letter he had ever sent. It's somehow fitting that his last letter is classically sarcastic but ends on a serious note. I read it for a second time, and then again for a third time, to suck every single drop of wisdom out of the letter. By the time I look up, Mom has fallen asleep on her bed, but her expression betrays her tormented thoughts. I silently replace the letter, not missing the immediate shift from torment to only slight discomfort from something that she couldn't possibly have felt in sleep.

Sleep. The word falls foreign in my thoughts, the concept unfathomable in my present state. I exit Mom's room, silently thanking her for making sure her door didn't squeak, and back into the hallway wall.

Where did you go from here?

Sam POV 5:58AM Day 13

The sound would have been ignorable if it hadn't been accompanied by the spastic vibrating of my phone. Muttering curses under my breath, I blindly look for the source of the commotion. There was no way in hell I was going to open my eyes, not while the possibility of sleep still lingered. My hand bumps into my cell phone on the coffee table, sending it skidding onto the floor in front of the TV. Screw it. Whoever was trying to call me could wait.

Just as I had fallen back into the blissful recesses of blackness, my accursed cell phone starts spazzing out again. Not even bothering to keep my vulgar language down this time, I roll off of the couch and onto the floor. Unfortunately, Freddie isn't here to break my fall this time and every ounce of air is forced out of my lungs. Persevering, I crawl my way towards the vibrating cell phone that I was personally going to crush with a sledgehammer, and picked up.

"Sam?" Comes a familiar whisper, thick with something I didn't recognize. I rub my eyes in defeat, finally accepting that sleep was lost for the moment. Normally, I would have responded with some razor sharp insult or smart ass comment to get him back for waking me up at god knows how early in the morning, but the thickness in his voice stops me. Something was up.

"What?" I ask, sitting up and leaning against the coffee table.

"Are you okay?" The question is so unexpected, so irrelevant, so startlingly penetrating into what I thought I had hidden so well, that I don't respond immediately. Freddie seems to notice my breathing pick up over the line and misinterprets my terror for anger. "I'm sorry for calling, I really am, but the chain was locked and I never got to apologize for my Mom's…behavior." His voice is like honey, flavoring his words with sincerity.

"It's fine." I answer, pleased when my voice comes out halfway normal. "I haven't exactly earned her approval, have I?" Laughing under my breath, I curse silently when it comes out as a strangled chuckle.

"No, it's not fine." His voice is thick again, but firm and authoritative as he closes the subject. "You still haven't answered me." I resist the urge to snap back, but only because the thickness in his voice is growing increasingly prominent.

"I'm fine!" I'm sure to claim it in such a way that any hint of the truth is hidden. "Now do you mind telling me why the HELL you called at-." I glance at the kitchen clock. "6:00 in the morning?" He doesn't seem to catch my earlier lie, too focused on my present anger to be worried.

"Well…the door was chained shut." It wasn't quite an accusation, more of a question than anything, but I don't let that stop me. (A/N: If you picture Carly's apartment door, there's a chain and a lock on the doorknob. In my story, Sam usually locks the doorknob but Freddie can pick the lock to get in. When Sam decides to lock the chain, Freddie can't get into the apartment.)

"Did you ever think that there was a reason I chained the door shut?" Dead silence from the other side of the line. I push on. "Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, you should tell me when you post new Wake Up Spencers?" It was partially about the Wake Up Spencers but mostly because of how the world was compressing on me, Spencer's sculpture being one of the first signs that karma was going in for the kill.

"Is that what this is about?" Freddie asks, betraying his frustration in the incredulousness of his tone. "I forgot to tell you, that's all, and I…edited." It's suddenly stiflingly awkward and I can't see any way around it.

"I saw that you cut it out, but don't think that means you're forgiven." The anger is gone from my voice, replaced with slight playfulness. Why exactly he was forgiven so easily was a mystery to me, but, due in part to my quickly fading sleepiness, I was becoming more alert by the second. A chuckle from the other end of the line when Freddie sees through my "threat".

"What could I ever do to make it up to you, Princess Puckett?" He answers in fake sincerity, purposely taunting my explicit forbiddance on the nickname when used seriously.

"Pushing your luck, dipthong." I respond in fake annoyance, smiling reluctantly. A soft rap on the door, quickly followed by a chuckle at my second empty threat. I stay silent, unmoving, with my eyes fixed on the door. Finally, Freddie responds.

"Your move." His challenge stirs me to action. I get to my feet and grab my backpack from the corner, silently unzipping it. Poising myself in front of the door, I press my phone between my cheek and my shoulder while supporting the water gun with one hand. I move my free hand to the chain, unlocking it before dropping my hand to the doorknob. Smiling to myself, I swing the door open and chuckle when Freddie finds himself staring down the barrel of my water gun.

"Give me a reason, Freddork, give me a reason." Freddie pulls his cell away from his ear slowly, raising both hands in the air in surrender.

"You don't need to do this, Sam." He pleads, eyeing the water gun carefully. "I have something planned and we can't go if I'm soaking wet." I prod his stomach with the water gun, trying not to get sucked in and distracted by him.

"And what could possibly give me more pleasure then soaking you to the bone right now?" I ask, just taunting him now. I knew that my chances of pulling the trigger had been growing slimmer by the second, and his next words obliterate all chance entirely.

"The little supermarket a few blocks over opens at six. You couldn't possibly be interested in getting your promised hams, now could you?"

Wendy POV 9:00AM (East Coast Time) Day 13

"You ran into Great-Uncle Milton yet? His poodle tried to maul me." I open my eyes, blinking blearily, and struggle to think coherently.

"Uncle Ian." I try to inject some enthusiasm into my tone, but fail completely. He laughs, every bit as sleepy as I am, and hugs me tightly.

"The time change is brutal." Uncle Ian is the only relative (excluding my parents and I) that had flown out from Seattle for this stupid family reunion with people I either didn't remember or didn't care about.

"That it is." I agree, pulling out of the hug and collapsing back into my seat.

"So, how you been, jellybean? Any juicy gossip worth reporting?" He teases, his eyes twinkling. He knew of my position within the school from his patients, but had agreed to keep my parents in the dark. I owed him.

"Only our most challenging assignment yet." I respond, praying he won't ask for details. Uncle Ian wouldn't have that.

"Oh, really? Tell me." He replies, waving to a cousin of mine from across the room before returning his attention to me.

"A friend, Carly, came to us about setting up her best friends." I respond vaguely, hoping that would be enough for him. He didn't watch iCarly, so I figured I was reasonably safe.

"Carly as in Carly Shay?" Shit. I'm fully awake now, trying to give away as little as possible.

"Yes." I answer in a careful, clipped tone. His face brightens and he plows on.

"She's one of my patients! Her friend, Sam, is one of my other patients." Uncle Ian's excited glow disappears at the mention of Sam, contracting his fingers reflexively. I sense an interesting story, if nothing else, and seize the direction of the conversation.

"Did something happen when Sam came to visit you?" I fish, searching his body language for clues. He hesitates, unsure of how to answer.

"The first time she came, I almost lost a finger." Uncle Ian winces, flexing his fingers again. I laugh, unable to get the mental picture of Sam chomping at his fingers out of my head. "Don't laugh! It got so bad that I had to turn on the cameras that we never use for liability issues AND I had to put her under nitrous oxide." He shivers dramatically, but I'm not laughing anymore.

"Wait, nitrous oxide? Like laughing gas?" I ask, instinctively sensing that there was something here. Uncle Ian (well, Dr. Ian Wheeler) chuckles despite himself at this, still flexing his fingers.

"That's the one. You should have seen Carly's face when she was walking Sam out to the car. It was like she'd seen a ghost!" Uncle Ian laughs again, imagining the scene in his head.

"Is there any way that I could get the footage of Sam under the laughing gas? You said that people say some pretty crazy things when they're on that stuff." I hold my breath and Uncle Ian frowns.

"I don't know if I could do that with patient/doctor confidentiality and all." He answers hesitantly, almost like he's waiting for me to change his mind.

"What harm could it do? I mean, she probably didn't even see that miniscule sign in your lobby that says you reserve the right to monitor your appointments and it's not like she would say anything but crazy mumbo jumbo. Not to mention you're my favorite uncle." I bat my eyelashes, exaggerating my sucking up to make him laugh. It works, his frown fading.

"Well, when you put it that way-." He whips out his phone, punching the buttons with practiced efficiency. "-I'll ask my assistant to send over the footage ASAP." Uncle Ian closes his cell phone, his expression thoughtful. "I've never actually seen what went down that day, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it." He smiles, looking past me and rolling his eyes. "Oh, lord the twins are at it again." I look behind me, unable to focus on my dumbass cousins (the twins: Brody and Bruce) trying out Great-Uncle Milton's poodle's shock collar. No, all I can really focus on is Uncle Ian's footage that will probably turn out to be nothing anyway.

Dun Dun DUNNNN! Sorry, kinda had to do that. :)

So, what did you think? Seddie or suckish? How am I supposed to know if you don't review? :(

Wow, amazing response for last chapter! Thanks to: Seddielovergrl, delenaseddieluv, Moela Rose, HugsandBugsSmileyface, leodoglover, ChaosKeks, mirage888, xx-SamxFreddie-xx, Mystapleza, Jane Vulturis Black, RobSp1derp1g, twilightcrazed999, ober22, PurpleMousefurGomez, Mardelzor, iMaximumSeddie, AnnaMarieED-SaitoNatsubi, M U L T I S E D D I E, Mkap, iPeppyCola, coketree20, Geekquality, Romance and Musicals, Kpfan72491, forevarSdd1, singstar29, violet0scar, AnimeRose93, Misskress, bluemystique, Thalico 4 evah, LaUr3n-ShAuNy, bella3590, Mari13ssa, seddieroxxmysoxx, Plant Love Grow Peace, kelseighrox925, Ivyheart, LovalyDisaster, theofficialseddiefan, Jess, and SpeakNow4!

TO DELENASEDDIELUV: Glad you liked it! :)

TO TWILIGHTCRAZED999: Haha, glad to hear it! :)

TO MKAP: The hummingbird was a reference to Chapter 40 when Sam and Freddie feel each others heartbeats. Freddie saved Sam's life in Chapters 8-11 when Sam gets hypothermia. Hope this helped. :)

TO iPEPPYCOLA: I live in what used to be a desert (they built so much in that it can hardly be called a desert) in the United States. :)

TO FOREVARSDD1: This chapter was Day 13 and hopefully a little better than Gibby smelling his armpits or Spencer's goldfish slowly withering away. :)

TO MISSKRESS: Hmmm...I feel like I'm about to give out a big secret here. I'm a *cliffie*! jk, jk. I'm a girl, not that that has anything to do with the story or my writing style. :)

TO IVYHEART: Glad you liked it so much! Hopefully you can get an account eventually, but I don't know the circumstances.

TO LOVALYDISASTER: I did come up with Mrs. Benson's bicycle rule, glad you enjoyed it! Hopefully there was more Seddie in this chapter. :)

TO JESS: I don't know if you're to this chapter yet, but I remember that line because it broke my heart to write it.

So...that's about it! Thanks so much for reading and please, please review! :D