DISCLAIMER: NO I STILL DON'T OWN iCARLY. LET'S MOVE ON.

Chapter Two

Growing up, Sam had never had the best role models. Over half her family was in prison, or worse. Her dad had died when she was fairly young. Her sister, Melanie, (who Freddie still didn't believe existed) had abandoned her, and her mother...well, she was a handful. After their dad had died, their mom had almost instantly jumped into a relationship with another man named Raymond. This man was awful to Sam and Melanie, for nine long years. But it was because of this that their mom showed them any kind of attention. It took a long time for her to gather the strength to leave him, but in that time she was the best mother she could be. She had to be, otherwise her children might've been killed. After he was finally gone, Melanie couldn't handle the mess of a woman their mother had become. A sobbing, careless, abusive, disgusting...mess. Melanie had been accepted to some fancy boarding school, all expenses paid, and she left soon after.

Sam had then been forced to play the role of parent for herself, and Pam Puckett, at only age ten. Every week, she was in a new relationship. It started out just the same, she was over the moon with happiness...and then it happened again. Even if she somehow snagged a semi-decent guy, she still managed to repel them. Every other week, Sam was picking her drunk, brokenhearted mother up off the floor, dragging her into the shower (if Pam remembered to pay the water bill), and then attempting to put her to bed while she cried in her lap for hours. It'd become such a constant thing, she wasn't even phased anymore. It was just routine.

Her home life wasn't a thing she was particularly fond of, no matter how used to it she was. Because of that, not even Carly was aware of just how serious it could get sometimes. When her mom was down in the dumps, she was considerably a much better person. That said something. When things were going pretty well for her, she was a completely different human being. She still got drunk every day of her life, and when she was drunk, and happy...she did and said things that Sam wasn't sure she could forgive in the moment. Until just like always, she'd sneak in through her window one night, creep around her house until she found her mom sobbing in the kitchen floor surrounded by a bunch of broken bottles, and feel herself soften.

Anyone looking in on the situation would have instantly tried to have her removed. Sam downplayed it, constantly. Even to herself. Sometimes the situation got so bad, she was forced to wear long sleeves in the summer time to hide the bruises. Then it got to the point where she had to wear long sleeves all the time, to hide the scars. And she most certainly could never wear a two piece bathing suit.

But for some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to report it. She ached for the person her mother used to be. A silent prayer was said every night for Pam to return to being the person she once was. The mom who woke Sam up in the middle of the night to play video games. The mom who held her while she cried after Raymond's beatings, and told her everything would be okay while she stroked her hair. The mom who stood up for her when he had called her names, and when he put her down more times than she could count. The mom that tried her damnedest to take her pain away, instead of being the one who caused it.

Any attempt people made to pry into her backstory, she blew them off. Even Carly. Her upbringing had forced her to put forth a tough exterior, and she denied anyone access to her true emotions. Her experiences had hardened her, before she was old enough to understand why. All she knew was that she had to do whatever it takes to keep her heart protected. For this, she appeared cold.

Still...she became weak. She let herself fall, ever so slightly. Giving in to the chance that maybe Freddie wasn't all bad. They were friends, and maybe one day, they could be more. She was still way too confused to deal with all of that at fifteen, on top of all of the other things that came with that age. She pushed her feelings aside. Of course she'd never voiced any of this with Carly, and at the time she discovered these emotions, she and Carly had been fighting. So she'd already semi-sorted through, and forgotten those feelings by the time they fixed things. It was that same fight that made Sam choose to forget them. As much as she could, anyway.

It was also that same fight that forced Freddie to begin to process his own thought and emotions. He'd always assumed he'd side with Carly in any situation, but over the years that assumption was proven false. He may not have admitted it, but Sam had a point. The name was iCarly, and that was his fault. Carly was funny, but mostly when she was given a script. Sam was funny with or without one. Carly worked hard, there was no doubt about that. Sam was late a lot, frequently didn't show up for rehearsals, and spent a good deal of time laying there doing nothing when she did attend...but the ideas that just came naturally to her, the ones that flew out of her mouth on the spot, and the way she was able to improvise when she hadn't gone over the script...it was admirable. She was underappreciated. She was constantly tossed to the side. iCarly wouldn't exist without her. And Freddie...he was too stupid to speak up.

They were fighting over him. "Freddie loves me." Carly had said. And he had kept his mouth shut, watching while Sam walked solemnly out the door, betrayal etched on her face. Freddie chose to technically be on both of their sides, for the sake of the show. He spent several hours with Sam, alone, trying to set up shop at her house so she could do the show from there.

"And what does this thing do?" Sam asked curiously.

"Are you actually asking, or do you want me to start talking just so you can tell me to shut up?"

"If I wanted to do that, I'd have told you to shut up before you even finished that sentence, nub." Sam quipped, tossing the odd little device back and forth in her hands.

Freddie finally turned around, and saw a look of thoughtfulness on her face. His aggravation outweighed his curiosity as he saw her carelessly throwing the strip panel around.

"Whoa, be careful with that!" He exclaimed.

"Don't get your panties in a wad, here!" She snapped back, tossing it to him. Surprisingly, he caught it with little effort.

"Sam!"

"What?"

"Don't - nothing." He sighed and went back to what he was doing.

"You never answered my question."

He began explaining to her what it was, but she cut him off almost immediately.

"In English, dipwad."

"That is English, Sam. It's not my fault you don't understand basic technology."

"Well at least I'm trying to! How do you expect me to learn if you won't explain it to where I can? Stop speaking dweeb." Freddie looked up at her, his curiosity returning. He decided not to prod, and dumbed down his explanation.

"It's basically a high tech power strip, but it's for jacks. Like-"

"Headphones, cameras, laptops, et cetera?"

"Exactly."

"So...why do we need it?"

"Because a lot of the equipment we have in the studio has to stay in the studio. Too hard to transport on such short notice. We have to plug in quite a few more devices to broadcast to the same place from two different locations, and you live pretty far."

"I only live twenty minutes down the road."

"Yes, but technologically speaking, it's pretty far."

Sam nodded, and went quiet, picking at her fingernails.

"So...what's up with you? You've only insulted me like twice today." Freddie asked.

"Nerd."

"Okay, three. I know you can do better than that though." He joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Are you actually asking for me to insult you?"

"No, I just...you've got me a little worried over here. Are you upset about Carly?" He knew her too well.

"What do you think, numb nuts?"

"Uh...yes?"

"Ding ding ding! And the award goes to Fredbag!"

"Sam. Why can't you ever just talk to me like a normal person?"

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don't want to talk?"

"But you never wanna talk! At least not to me."

"I don't want to talk about this. So...just hurry up and finish whatever it is you're doing, and go." With that, she stood up and went upstairs. She didn't come back down, even when he called out that he was done. He'd waited a few minutes, but decided against bothering her and went home.

He had known she was upset, and instead of being a good friend, he walked away. So many times he had walked away. And later that same week, as he hung frantically out the window, screaming for the life of his friends he was helpless to save... He felt guilt. She'd apologized to him on many occasions for the things she had done and said to him. Mostly just to 'start fresh' whatever that meant. But he'd never once apologized to her, not to where she knew he meant it.

Knowing how much it meant to him to make things right, even in a moment as scary as that, the possibility of losing her just wasn't an option. Of course he was afraid for Carly's life too, but the fact that when they were being pulled back through the window, it was Sam he reached for spoke volumes to him. Admittedly, he was scared shitless to know exactly how much he cared for the blonde who tormented him so. There were a lot of things he wasn't sure of, a lot of things that included her, but the one thing he was certain of as he held on to her a little longer than necessary...was that holding her strangely felt good. Little did he know, she wasn't reciprocating those feelings, as she was nursing a broken heart from a few months earlier.

Sam was pondering those very thoughts, as she sat in the windowsill of Carly's bedroom. There was a party going on downstairs, one that she wasn't particularly interested in attending. Freddie's birthday party. She was frustrated with herself. Despite her inner battle, she let herself give in. Again. She'd been hurt...Again.

She'd taken an interest in the culinary arts, after a few lessons with Ricky Flame. She'd thrown herself into it, because she needed something, anything to get her mind off of what she'd seen a few short weeks after the competition against him. Devastation, heartbreak, and confusion were all she could feel, and she was sick of it. She'd spent her whole life trying to make sure she never felt this way again. And then she just had to walk in the Groovy Smoothie that night. The night she saw for herself that Freddie truly did still hold a candle for Carly. The night her heart shattered into a million pieces, while she cursed herself because she knew better.

She'd become a decent cook, unbeknownst to Carly and Freddie. Spencer knew, but was sworn to secrecy by Sam. He didn't know why it was such a big deal, but he was a loyal friend so he kept his mouth shut. Spencer and Sam had been hanging out a lot, which was weird but also kind of nice. Sam refused to tell him why, for she wasn't quite sure herself, but she really wanted to make Freddie a cake for his birthday. Perhaps it was because she wanted to show him that she did have some nice qualities. She could be like Carly if she really wanted to.

She and Spencer spent at least a week on it, Spencer with his sculpting skills, and Sam with her culinary ones. Together, they'd created a masterpiece. It wasn't super big, but it was impressive as hell. It was a smaller than normal laptop, on top of a smaller than normal cart...just like the one he used for iCarly. Sam was beside herself with glee, and even though she'd eventually decided against telling Freddie that she had a hand in making it, she couldn't wait for him to see it. That kind of selflessness was so new to her, but she had to admit, it made her feel good to care so much about someone else's happiness aside from her own, and Carly's.

Then, the big day came. Carly's apartment was overly decorated, as was usual on someone's birthday. Sam had even helped. After all, you only turn sixteen once. Then he had to go and ruin everything. After the hiding, and popping out to yell surprise, and Freddie acting like he actually was surprised, they showed him the cake. This actually did earn a genuinely shocked look from Freddie.

Instantly, he said, "Wow, Spencer! This looks awesome!" Of course it was obvious Spencer had had something to do with it. But then Freddie went and hugged and thanked both Carly and Spencer, leaving Sam standing there alone. Spencer glanced at her, an awkward look on his face. He was (thankfully) the only person to see her face fall. The pained expression was gone in an instant, but he had definitely seen it. He offered her a sad smile, knowing he would only make things worse if he said anything to Freddie, and remained quiet.

Carly at least noticed how he had ignored Sam, and made a point to tell him she had helped with decorations, since she herself didn't know about the cake. He shrugged it off, offered Sam a distracted, 'Thanks' and went on with his business. Upset, Sam took the card she had gotten him out of her back pocket, and took it to the island to fill it in. She scribbled something down hastily, left it on the counter, and retreated up the stairs.

Coming back to where she was now, sitting in Carly's window, overlooking the teeny tiny ant cars down below, she was lost in thought. She'd been doing that a lot, it seemed. Her heart ached. She knew she hadn't done much in the recent years to deserve recognition from him. That didn't stop it from hurting.

"Sam? What are you doing, we've been looking everywhere for you." Freddie said, causing her to all but jump out of her skin. "Whoa...I didn't scare ya did I?" He asked, a smirk forming on his nubby little face.

"Of course not, nothing scares me. What do you want, anyway?" Sam retorted, attempting and failing to redeem herself.

He let it go, but kept smiling at her. "I already told you, we've been looking for you."

"Well I'm right here. Who's we? And what do 'we' need from me?"

Rolling his eyes, he said, "Me, Carly, Spencer?" He crossed the room and sat across from her. "We don't really need anything, I don't guess. Just...what are you doing?" He repeated.

"Like you care." She said, going back to looking at the street.

Hurt crossed his face. "I do, that's why I'm here."

"I'm not doing anything, obviously. Now leave me alone, Benson. Go back to your dorkfest." She crossed her arms, working furiously to look anywhere else but at the boy sitting in front of her.

"Sam...what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Something."

"Nope."

"Yep."

"Dweeb..."

"Demon?"

"Gah! Just quit shoving your nose where it doesn't belong, would ya!" Sam exclaimed, standing up in frustration.

"Quit being so overly stubborn, and just talk to me. I thought we were friends?" He appeared ingenuous, but like he said, she was stubborn.

"Oh, like we were downstairs you mean? Cause that didn't seem very friend-like to me!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, Fredwad. Just leave me ALONE!" She screamed as she stormed out the door. She ran down the stairs two at a time, and slowed as she reached the living room. Somehow, she managed to bypass Carly, Spencer, and Gibby, and make it to the front door.

Wasn't too long after that when Carly decided to go and kiss him... and things shifted, yet again.

Nothing really came of Carly and Freddie's relationship, aside from the fact that they were even better friends afterwards. Freddie had matured into a decent young man, and realized (with a little 'help' from Sam) that Carly was never in love with him. She was in love with what he did for her. While he would've killed for the chance to be with her in any way just a few years previously, he didn't want a relationship built on the pity she'd have had for him that would've kept her from ending it herself after the high wore off. So he ended it himself, with the halfhearted remark that maybe they'd try again later...He knew they never would, and they never did.

The group wasn't the same afterwards. Sam had managed to hold it together surprisingly well throughout the whole ordeal. In all honesty, she hadn't meant to break them up. Or that's a lie she tried to tell herself. The only reason she didn't feel bad about it though, was because literally the next day Carly was crazy about some other guy, admitting to Sam she was relieved Freddie let her off the hook.

Still, Sam's light dimmed slightly after that. It wasn't enough for either Carly or Freddie to notice, but she noticed it herself. The jealousy that gnawed at her insides when she had seen the two of them together, and kissing, and...she was freaking out inside. The jealousy had scared her. She was so afraid of her feelings, she was constantly stifling them. Always coming up with a reason why she was crazy. Upping the insults on the days when the butterflies in her stomach were more persistent.

Sam couldn't remember how it had gotten so far. Sure, she'd thought Freddie was cute when they first met, but that'd been five years before. They'd been through the good, the bad, and the ugly, with definitely more of the latter two. So why on Earth was she feeling so...mushy?