AN: Two in a row! What's up?! Honestly, who knows when this'll happen again, but I'm glad I had the time to bang out two chapters. I guess that's one bonus of being unable to work right now... Thanks for the support on this story and all the lovely reviews.

We're coming to the end of Sam's first year now. Some things are quite different now, obviously. We've reached a turning point, of sorts. So let's go.

Read, Review, and Enjoy! :)

Open When...

You Want to Know More About Me

April

My head pounded. My cheek still stung. My stomach cramped.

I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar room, nearly off the edge of a bed. It took a moment, and a fall onto the carpet, for my thoughts to click from confusion to recognition. I was wearing a shirt. Not just any shirt, a half-buttoned man's shirt that Freddie had been wearing the night before. I rolled up the sleeves and glanced over at Freddie's sleeping form. The sheet dipped just enough to show me the top of his backside.

What logic possessed me to put on a shirt and him to wear nothing last night?

I ran a hand over my face, then through my hair. There was no part of me that knew how to play this. The last time we had drunken sex was well over a year ago and we'd never talked about it. Just went on, business as usual. But Penny's words creeped into my mind and I somehow knew that this wouldn't be the same.

He looks at you like you're the most perfect thing ever.

And he does. And I do. But what am I supposed to do with that information when we tried and failed to be together? Maybe all were meant to do is link up and have sex every so often... My heart lurched at the thought, but I also couldn't form another that made any sense.

My phone rang, interrupting the silence that enveloped the whole dorm. Freddie jumped out of sleep and immediately sat up. I crawled over to the spot where I'd dropped my phone last night.

"Hello?" I said, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

"Did you leave?"

It was Ashley.

"What?"

"Your place," she said. "Did you leave? I've been texting you, then I came to your room and knocked and you're not there, so I went and found Flynn because he's usually in the gym around now and he said he hasn't seen you."

"I mean, good."

"What's good?"

"I temporarily left," I said, not wanting to talk about Flynn when Freddie was staring at me so intently.

"Where did you go?"

"Look, it doesn't matter right now," I said. "I'll explain later. I'll be back tomorrow, probably."

I noticed Freddie's lips quirk downwards momentarily at that revelation. Same.

I hung up the phone after Ashley said goodbye. I was about to say something, and I think Freddie was too, when I noticed the blood on the sheets and the carpet where I had been sitting originally. Well, I guess that explains the cramps.

I closed my eyes and scrambled to my feet. A tiny spot of blood appeared where I had been sitting. So this is what I get for not wearing underwear. Cool.

"Oh god," I said. "I just bled all over your carpet and sheets. I can't believe - Freddie, I'm sorry. That's gross of me and probably the last thing you want to wake up to."

"Can you pass me that?" he asked, pointing at his boxers. I picked them up and threw them at him. I looked away as he rearranged himself. "It's fine, Sam," he said once he wasn't fully naked. He stood and pulled his sheets back, inspecting the damage. Not horrible, but still dotted with little bits of me. "That's why you wash sheets."

"Cold water."

"What?"

"Cold water," I repeated. "It helps get blood out."

He nodded and bunched his sheets up. I turned from him and rummaged through the duffel bag I'd packed yesterday. I hadn't known how long I'd stay, but I knew roughly where I was in my cycle and roughly when I was going to have my period, so I'd packed the tampons. A brilliant stroke of luck on my part when I hadn't really been thinking.

"I'm just going to just..." I slipped out without waiting for his response.

I shed Freddie's shirt and stepped into the shower. A few moments later there was a knock, and someone entered. I startled. In my scatterbrained haste, I hadn't locked the door.

"Sorry," came Freddie's voice. "There's just carpet cleaner in here."

I poked my head around the curtain, thankful that it wasn't see through.

"Fredward, I realize you're cleaning up my mess, but with all due respect, get out."

He smirked, then backed out.

I sighed. I let the water fall over my body until I felt remotely clean, then I turned it off and stepped out. Dread hit me. I didn't bring in a towel. I poked my head out the door to find a towel hanging on knob. I smiled.

Once settled in a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants, with brushed teeth, and still wet hair, I made my way back to Freddie's room. His bed had been stripped and the two spots on the carpet were now spotless. He walked in behind me, semi dressed, at least wearing pants and I handed him his shirt.

"Murderer in a past life?" I asked.

"Germaphobe mother in a current life." he replied.

I smiled. But it didn't last long as I realized what conversation we were about to have. So, instead, I dug my hands into my bag, pretending to look for something.

"Sam," he said. I ignored him. "Sam. There's a conversation we really need to have."

"That conversation never goes well for us," I muttered, finding the two remaining letters he'd written me at the bottom of the bag. I didn't remember stuffing them in there.

He groaned and sat down on the bare mattress. "You're not wrong about - Hey, are those my letters?"

"Yeah, why?"

He shrugged. "Guess I haven't seen them in a while. That's how you got here last night, isn't it?"

"Are you going to make me admit that?"

"You needed me." The pride in his voice was palpable, then faltered. "Though, I guess I don't really like the situation that made you need me. How's your face feeling?"

It was my turn to shrug. I met his gaze. "Between a headache and cramps, it's the least of my worries."

"Least that means you're not pregnant."

"Ha-ha. Very funny." I rolled my eyes. "That would be an impossibility."

"You mean... You never ?"

"With Flynn? No, I guess I intuitively never wanted him inside me."

We both paused. His eyes shifted. I bit my lip. We both knew that meant that I did want Freddie.

I glanced down at white envelope and tore it open.

"What one's that?" he asked.

"Open when you want to know more about me," I said

"Oh."

I read the letter to myself.

"Sam,

"We've known each other forever but I know there's things we still don't know. You know that I'll tell you anything you want to know. I hope you'll do the same with me. If you need a place to start, here's a short list: ..."

I read through the list and look up at him. "20 questions?" I asked.

Freddie drew his eyebrows together, shrugged, then nodded. "Sure."

I looked down at the list. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Blue. Yours?"

"Black."

"That's not a colour."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, fine. Red."

"What's your biggest pet peeve?"

"You know I hate so many things."

"That's why I said biggest."

"Fine," I said and thought. His eyes bored into me as though he genuinely wanted to know. But then again, he always genuinely wanted to know. "People who think that they're better than you because they've had a better life."

"Shit, Sam," he said. "That's deep. I was just going to say people that chew with their mouths open or while they're talking."

I shrugged, looked down at the list, then threw it away. "If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Maybe Spain... I'd love to go to a lot of places, though. What about you?"

"I really like it here in New York. Or, well not here here, but you know what I mean. I just feel more at home than I have in a long time."

"What's your dream home look like?"

"Something small. I feel like I don't need a lot of space. Maybe, kind of woodsy, wooden floors and beams."

"I've always wanted something by water."

"Who's your favourite? Me or Carly?"

He smirked. "Seriously?"

I shrugged.

"Would you believe me if I said you?"

Another shrug.

"Carly is Carly. She's fine. She's a good friend and she knows that. But I don't know if even she would say that she's my favourite anymore. I think people can generally tell how I feel."

Apart from me, apparently. "Sorry, but I have to say that Carly is my favourite."

"I get that," he said. "She's your best friend."

Somehow that statement rang untrue to me now. Over the past few months, Freddie had shifted into my best friend. I wasn't even sure that Carly was my favourite of them anymore.

"What scares you?" Freddie asked.

"Being here," I said without thinking.

"Here? Like, in my room?"

"No. Not really, at least. Just... here. In this space and place in my life. It's been harder than I thought getting away from everything back home. Everything's come back to bite me and, I don't know, confronting it all is scary."

"You could have fooled me," he said. "But at the same time, you've always been good at hiding your fears."

"I have not been. I just hid them with rage."

"Yeah, that's true. For what it's worth, I think you've done really well here."

"I'm scared to go back too."

"Me too," he said.

"What do you have to be afraid of?"

"Nothing as bad as you," he said. He shifted off the bed and onto the floor so that we were level with each other. "I just don't want to go home and feel so stifled again. That's how I've felt most of my life. Since I was aware of the fact that my mom was a lot more overbearing than everyone else's parents."

"What happened to your dad?" I asked.

Freddie paused. It was something unspoken between all of us. None of us had perfect families. We were all fractured somehow. Carly grew up with Spencer because her mom was dead, which I only knew in passing, and her dad was always away for work. I had my crazy mom, her boyfriends, and no dad. And Freddie had his mom. I never knew why it was just his mom.

He shifted, closed his eyes, then took a breath.

"My dad's a doctor," Freddie said. "My mom met him at work. They, uh, had an affair. He was married and never told her. She didn't know he had a wife until me."

"Until you? You mean he got her pregnant and he -"

"Left her. He told her that she didn't mean anything to him, then he switched hospitals."

"Freddie," I said.

And that's all I said. Because I didn't know what else I could say. I'd known him half my life and I never knew this fact that somehow linked us.

"I've never met him," he said. "My mom doesn't even know I know what happened."

"How do you know?"

"My aunt thought I knew. She was talking about him one day like it would make sense to me. My mom's always made it out to be that he died. That he loved me, but he died. But that's not true."

"Have you ever looked for him?"

Freddie sighed. "Yeah. I found him too. He's got a whole family. A wife and three kids. Crazy thing is he looks a lot like me. That must kill my mom."

"I'm so sorry. I - I know you know that I know nothing about my dad, and I probably wouldn't want to with my mom's track record, but this is a lot. When did you look for him? Why didn't you say anything?"

"December."

"Like, 4 months ago, December?"

"Yeah," he said. "I was actually going to tell you. My aunt slipped up a few years ago and I'd always been too afraid to look. Or maybe it just felt dishonest or disloyal to my mom... But I kept thinking about it while I've been here. And then when I went home for Christmas, I guess something finally cracked and I needed to know."

"I scared you out of telling me, didn't I?"

"No, not scared," he said. "I came out to the fire escape to talk to you about it but you were already dealing with your own emotional baggage."

"Just stop me when I am. Because I always am. You're allowed to have some too."

"I know. I also just needed some time to process it all."

Freddie's eyes were glassy. His skin was flushed. I almost thought he was going to cry. I'd barely seen him cry before. The last iCarly episode was one of the only times I'd seen him break down. But I got this. This missing part of you. I knew I would never know who my father was, but Freddie did. And Freddie had the unfortunate experience of knowing who he was and knowing he would never want to meet him.

"I get it and I'm really sorry that you get to understand a piece of my life."

He laughed, but not the pleasant kind. An ugly sort of mirth tainted his laugh.

"I'm sorry that we both have to know what that feels like."

I nodded. Neither of us spoke for a while. The rapid fire questions stopped. They were replaced with thoughts of how we had this unknowing link. And then, replaced with a sort of darker question in my mind.

"Freddie?" I asked and he met my eyes. "Why do you keep sleeping with me if you know that something like that could happen?"

"I would never do that to you."

"You wouldn't? So hypothetically, if I accidentally got pregnant and -"

"Well, you're not right now."

"Freddie, we don't have a great track record. This isn't the first time we've had sex and somehow I doubt it'll be the last."

"You do?"

"Shut up." I smirked. "I just - Why does this keep happening? Why is this all we can make work? If I got pregnant one of these times, would you really stay with me? Because it just doesn't make sense that we would magically function because there's a baby that exists."

"I think we'd function because we've grown up. We're not the same kids who started dating in high school and broke up because other people were judging us."

"Is that why we broke up?"

"Well, partially, I think. There were a lot of people who didn't like what was happening."

"What would change another time around?"

"I don't know," he said. At least he was honest. "Hypothetically, we'd make it work because we know each other better than we did before. We know ourselves better."

"You know all my dirty secrets now and you still like me?"

"I lo- I do. I don't think your secrets are dirty, they're just secrets. But now that I know them, they're also not secrets." He paused and read my face. "You have more, don't you?"

I shrugged. "Probably. I probably have ones that I don't even know. I've pushed a lot of things away and they all just came crashing down on me here."

"I know what you mean. Being on your own gives you a lot of time to think."

I sighed and laid down on the floor. Freddie crawled over and laid down next to me.

"Hypothetically," he said and he touched my slightly bruised cheek. "If there was a hypothetical baby, I wouldn't abandon it or you. I know what it's like to grow up without a father and find out you could have had one. I would never do that to someone."

"Hypothetically, I don't know if I even want kids. In a situation like that, I don't even know what I would do."

"I'd support whatever you decided too, hypothetically. Not that you need to know."

"It's good to know, hypothetically."

I met his eyes and every single part of me, mind, body, and soul, wanted to kiss him. Or even just touch his face or something. But every single part of me also hesitated to let someone as good as Freddie Benson into my tornado of a life.

I sat up and closed my eyes. I rubbed two fingers along the bridge of my nose. The headache was building again. I could make my life probably very complicated and jump at the chance to be with him or I could make myself feel almost bittersweet and keep the same distance in our relationship.

Freddie sat up too. He grabbed my hand and squeezed. His face mirrored my expression. Confusion, disappointment, but understanding.

"I get it," he said. "Maybe we'll figure it out one day."

Freddie Speak for, If you let me in, I'll be there.

And maybe I wanted that, but maybe I needed a little more time.

"Breakfast?"