Vampy: I know that I have a couple of ongoing fanfics right now, but I figured that this would be a good way to be productive when I get bored of working on those ones. Enjoy and feel free to PM requests to moi! Thank you to my reviewer, I appreciate your input!
I don't own anything from iCarly.
Warning: This story contains major angst and mentions of suicide.
Carly stared numbly into space as flashing lights alternatively turned her face red and blue. She barely registered when a paramedic wrapped a blanket around her shoulders or placed a steaming mug of hot cocoa in her hands. The questions the police were trying to ask her fell on deaf ears, as did the voices of her best friends Freddy and Sam when they pushed their way through the crowd to get to her. All that she was aware of were the three little words that played over and over in her mind.
It's my fault.
Spencer, her fun loving, man-child of an older brother, was dead. Carly couldn't help but think that she would have noticed something was wrong if she had paid more attention to him instead of being so focused on her webshow or on spending time with her friends. Five minutes, that's all it would have taken. Just five extra minutes and he would be alive right now.
Over the past few months Carly had noticed that her brother had become slightly withdrawn and didn't put as much effort into his art as usual, but whenever she asked him about it he would wave it off as lack of sleep. This didn't surprise her too much since Spencer did have trouble sleeping. However, usually he had some sort of new project to make up for it. There hadn't been a new sculpture in the house for weeks.
He hadn't been getting out of the house either, but again this wasn't surprising since he was at home most of the time working on his sculptures. Though it hadbeen surprising that he didn't hang out with Socko as often. Carly figured that he just wanted to spend more time with her and her friends since he seemed to enjoy their company more than that of people his own age.
Carly had always found rational explanations for why he had been acting off. Spencer himself had provided explanations for it, and she trusted him. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have missed the signs? He was her brother! She knew him better than anyone. Surely she should have been observant enough to realize that something was amiss. But she hadn't been, and now he was gone.
The brunette briefly realized that someone needed to call Grandad and her father to tell them about Spencer's death. Grandad would make her move to Yakima with him, as if Spencer's committing suicide wasn't an big enough upheaval. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to care about the fact that she was going to move to a town that sounded like someone throwing up. Carly couldn't bring herself to care about much of anything.
A loud smack resounded throughout the lobby of Bushwell Plaza and Carly instinctively brought her hand up to her cheek when it began to sting. She raised her eyes slowly to see Sam being restrained by the paramedic, her hand still raised. "Carly? You back, Cupcake?"
"S-Sam. . ." Carly's face scrunched up as she threw her arms around her best friend, letting out a wordless wail that brought tears to the eyes of everyone who heard it. Sam simply cried with her and said nothing to try comforting the other girl. There were some pains that couldn't be eased by words.
Freddy pulled one of the officers aside. "Can you tell me what you know so far?" He couldn't help but flinch when Spencer's sheet covered body was carted past them. The police officer looked at him sympathetically before glancing over at the grieving girls, lowering his voice to make sure they wouldn't hear.
"We received a 9-1-1 call a little over an hour ago from Spencer Shay. He told us that he was going to commit suicide and that he didn't want his sister to be the one to find his body. Unfortunately she got home earlier than expected and found him before we arrived to clean things up a bit. "
"He called you to tell you he was going to kill himself, and the operator didn't try to talk him out of it?" Freddy's eyebrows rose in disbelief.
The officer looked resigned, as if he had been expecting the question. "We weren't given time to do so. He hung up as soon as he passed his message along. It's not unusual for us to receive such calls, though usually it's because they want someone to talk them out of killing themselves." He lightly squeezed Freddy's shoulder. "I am truly sorry for your loss."
A surprisingly large amount of people were at Spencer's funeral. Most of Carly's peers had been there to support her, along with Principal Franklin and his family. Even Ms. Briggs had been there to mourn the artist. Many of the Shay siblings' closer friends stood up to speak about him. Socko told funny stories about the things Spencer received from him and his family. Ms. Briggs recounted the trouble he'd gotten into at school. Sam talked about how bad he was at lying to people. Carly hadn't been able to get out a single word and ended up just sobbing at the stand.
Freddy was the only one to say anything bad about Spencer, and Carly applauded him for saying what she could not. She didn't care about the gasps of shock or the warning hiss Sam gave their friend. She had looked straight at Freddy and nodded her gratitude for being so brutally honest about the selfishness of Spencer's choice.
Spencer had left a letter for her, his suicide note. It explained how he had been depressed for some time and how he was so sorry for the pain that he was undoubtedly causing her. He'd said he hoped that she would forgive him someday. He'd said that he would always love her. She had screamed and raged when she read it. How could he say that he loved her when he had taken himself away from her? How could he be sorry for the pain he was causing her and still be willing to cause it?
The funeral had been a week ago. Carly now stood in front of Spencer's room and stared at the door as she rubbed her arms. Even though it had been two weeks since he shot himself, she still had difficulty with the thought entering his room. She kept expecting him to appear and scold her for infringing on his privacy. Sometimes she would hear the water running in the kitchen and think that it was Spencer preparing spaghetti tacos, only to find Grandad filling up a glass instead. There were days when she would go downstairs with the expectation of a new sculpture after Spencer had another night of artistic inspiration. But he was never there, beaming up at her with the excitement of one eager to show his latest creation.
They had sold most of Spencer's sculptures after the funeral. Carly hadn't been able to look at them without bursting into tears and Grandad decided that it would be better to get rid of them. She packed up anything that reminded her of her brother to be sent to storage or donated to charity. But she still couldn't bring herself to enter his room. It contained too much of his spirit, too many memories, and she was still angry with him.
She would be moving to Yakima at the end of the school year so she wouldn't have to relocate right in the middle of the semester. Grandad and her father wanted to give her time to adjust before they suddenly forced another change on her. Carly didn't really care either way. It would still hurt whether she lived in Yakima or Seattle. Everything would remind her of Spencer.
With a quiet sigh, the brunette eventually turned away from the door. Someday she would be able to go into his room without crying. Someday she would be able to go into his room without wanting to break everything in sight. Someday. But today was not that day.
