AN-So I know I already did a oneshot where Sam died, but I got some requests to do one where Freddie passes away, so here it is!

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Sam Benson cursed loudly as she dropped the hammer she had been using to try and fix one of the kitchen cupboards, sucking the thumb she had just hit hard.

She jumped down from the counter and picked up the hammer, slamming it back into the open toolbox that sat on the table. She then grabbed a wrench and got down on her knees, opening the cabinet under the sink, trying to figure out where to even begin down there.

She heard her front door open, but she didn't turn around, even as she heard footsteps coming into the room.

"Sam?" she heard Carly's gentle voice behind her. "Sam, what are you doing?"

"Fixing this sink," Sam mumbled, not looking at her best friend. "What's it look like?"

"Sam," Carly sighed. "Don't worry about that right now. It's not important. I can call Spencer and have him come over and do it for you."

"I can do it," Sam mumbled, though she had to admit that she didn't have the slightest clue about anything to do with plumbing. So reluctantly she got to her feet.

"Sit down," Carly said, pulling out a chair for her. "I'll make you some tea."

"No, I need to finish working on these stupid cabinets," Sam said shakily. "And then I need to take a look at that creaky stair, and then-"

"No," Carly said firmly. "Right now you need to sit."

"I don't want to," Sam said quickly, turning away. She knew she couldn't do that. Because the second she did, she would lose it.

"Where are the kids?" Carly asked as Sam heaved herself back on the counter again to give the cabinet another go.

"Upstairs in there rooms."

"Well have you talked to them?" Carly asked. "You know, since Freddie-"

"Did you come over here for anything other than that?" Sam snapped angrily. "Because believe it or not, hearing over and over again that my husband just died isn't really the funnest thing in the world."

Carly blinked. "Sam…I'm-"

"Don't," Sam said thickly, turning back around as she could feel her eyes welling up. She pinched them closed tightly.

Carly nodded. "Have you eaten anything lately?" she asked.

Sam shrugged. As strange as it was for her, she honestly couldn't remember her last meal.

"I'll make you some soup," Carly said.

"No, I'm not hungry," Sam said reflexively.

"Well you have to eat something, you're looking really thin and-"

"No, Carly!" Sam said loudly. And then she broke down. She couldn't hold back the tears any longer and she felt them drip down her face onto the old t-shirt she had been wearing for days now. Her shoulders shook and she dropped the hammer for the second time that day.

Carly rushed over, loyally throwing her arms around her.

"I just want him back," Sam whispered through her sobs.

"I know you do, Sam. We all do," Carly said.

"I can't-I can't even sleep at night," Sam said, continuing to cry. "Because he's all I think about. And I can't just sit, because he's all I think about. And even-And even when I stay up doing all this junk I still think of him!"

"Of course you're thinking of him," Carly said. "He-He was your husband."

Sam felt her stomach clench as she heard the word 'was'. Was that how she was now going to have to refer to Freddie? In the past tense?

"I just want him back," Sam said again. "This wasn't supposed to happen…not now. Not when we still had so much left to do. It was supposed to happen way, way down the road when we were in our nineties and we were living in some retirement home eating dinner at four o'clock watching game shows all day. Not now…not when he was only forty. Not when he was driving home from the dentist."

"No…it shouldn't have happened now," Carly said. "Freddie didn't do anything to deserve that. He didn't deserve to be hit by that truck."

"But he still did," Sam said solemnly. She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt, getting back to her feet. "I need to probably take that whole cabinet door off…I don't know what happened to it, but it won't close right."

Carly opened her mouth, but then thought better of it and closed it. She watched her best friend in silence for a moment, wishing she could do something to help her get through this. But how could you console someone who literally had their heart shattered into pieces?

"I'll leave you to it then," Carly said softly.

Sam didn't reply.

Carly gave her one last sad glance before heading out of the house.

Once sure that she was alone, Sam slid off the counter, collapsing in one of the kitchen chairs.

She was somewhat amazed at the fact that she hadn't yet run out of tears. As much as she hated feeling this vulnerable, it seemed that was all she could do these days.

Freddie had always been the only one who could make her feel this way, and it seemed even after he was gone, that power still belonged to him.

"Why'd you have to go?" Sam whispered to the empty kitchen. "Why?"

But of course there was no answer, because the only person who could comfort her right now was never coming back to her. Never again would she feel the warmth of his embrace, of the softness of his lips against hers. She'd never get to see his crooked smile again or smile at the way his nose scrunched up.

"It's not fair," Sam mumbled, kicking her chair back and getting to her feet as she angrily began to pace back and forth in the kitchen. "It's not! It's not! It's-"

And then with all the anger she could muster, tears still pouring down her face, she punched the wall. Hard. Her hand slammed through the plaster, but it was if her body was numb to the pain. Because now she knew what real pain was.

Real pain was having someone, someone who had become your everything, someone who had become a part of you, snatched away in the blink of an eye without even getting a chance to say goodbye. Having to realize that for the rest of your life, you'd be incomplete.

Sam slid down against the wall, burying her face in her knees, calling out for Freddie, but knowing that she wouldn't hear her husband's voice in response.

A few hours later, Sam had found her way up to her and Freddie's bedroom. She sat down on the small trunk that sat at the foot of their bed where they stored spare sheets and pillows.

She stared at the bed. Freddie's side was neatly made, while her side was unkempt, with her pillow scrunched and her half of the covers messed up.

Sam hadn't slept there yet; she had camped out on the sofa downstairs since Freddie had passed away. This was simply how their bed looked on most occasions. That is until halfway through the day when Freddie would come up there, looking for something and stop to make up Sam's side for her. Sam would always tell him how pointless it was for him to that, because the bed was just going to get unmade when they went to bed, but he had always insisted on doing it.

This was where their last conversation took place…it had been so simple. Yet she had been clinging onto his words, savoring them and imprinting them into her memory as she replayed the scene for probably the thousandth time…

"Why?" Sam yawned, slowly picking her head up as she was awoken by the sound of her husband opening their closet door. "Why are you up at nine o'clock on a Saturday?"

"I have my dentist appointment, remember?" Freddie told her, pulling on a polo shirt.

"What's the point of even brushing your teeth and flossing so much if you're just going to pay for some dental assistant to do it for you?" Sam asked, rolling her eyes.

"Ha, ha," Freddie said, shaking his head. "You know you really should get to a dentist too, Sam. You're supposed to go every six months, and you haven't been in a good ten years."

"I still have my teeth, don't I?" Sam snapped, laying back down on her pillows. "So stop your nagging will you, and let me get back to sleep."

"Did I wake you?" Freddie asked.

"Little bit."

"Sorry," Freddie chuckled. "Anyway, after the dentists I'm going to stop by the drug store and pick up some more vitamins for the kids. You need anything?"

"Just sleep," Sam moaned groggily.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," Freddie smiled. "I'll leave you to your pillows."

…That was it. That was their last conversation. No 'I love you'. No sweet-talk…just her telling him to leave her alone so she could go back to sleep.

She let out a slow breath and then carefully reached onto their bed and took Freddie's perfectly fluffed pillow.

She could smell his soap on it, and instantly a familiar warmth spread within her as she greedily clung to it.

"I love you," she said softly, feeling some weight lifted from her chest as the words that she had never gotten to say left her tongue. "Forever."

She then caught sight of her hand, which was covered in dry blood from her punching the kitchen wall. Not wanting to risk getting the pillow dirty, she quickly sat it down and got to her feet. She headed back down to the kitchen and turned on the sink, letting the cold water wash over her wound.

She glanced out the window right above the sink, staring out at their backyard. She could clearly see the garden that Freddie had been trying to create for the past few months. He had read an article that kids who really connected with nature often did better in class, so of course he had rushed out and bought all sorts of seeds and plants and fertilizers to try and create a picturesque garden, but he had failed miserably, as nothing had grown…

"You know," Sam said, coming outside, where Freddie was covered in dirt, struggling to dig a hole with an old shovel. "If you must have this garden, there are gardeners who actually know what they're doing you can hire."

"What? You think I can't plant my own garden?" Freddie scoffed, wiping his sweat-covered brow.

"Baby," Sam smiled, rolling her eyes. "You've been at this for like, six weeks, and nothing's even close to growing in here."

"You'll see," Freddie smirked. "Soon we're going to have the best garden on the block. In all of Seattle, actually."

Sam laughed and handed him a bottle of iced tea and sat down next to him. "Hey, why'd you just buy a bunch of plain bushes and plant in here?"

"Those won't be plain for much longer," Freddie said. "They're rose bushes."

"I don't see any roses."

"Because they're taking their time!"

"If you say so," Sam chuckled.

"You know," Freddie said, looking over at her. "When I finish this garden, I'm going to buy a hammock and put up between those two trees right there so I can sit and look out on my work, and you won't be allowed to sit on it."

"I'll sit on it if I want to sit on it," Sam said.

"Nope," Freddie grinned. "The only way you'll be allowed on is if you're with me."

"And what are we going to do out on the hammock together?" Sam asked.

"You want a preview?" Freddie asked suggestively, catching Sam by surprise as he quickly pinned her down to the ground and leaned down and kissed her.

"Dude, stop!" Sam laughed, though not making any effort to get out from under him, which she could've easily done. "I just took a shower!"

"Since when have you ever cared about getting a little dirt on you?" Freddie pointed out.

"Very true," Sam chuckled, wrapping her arms around his firm neck, kissing him back passionately.

"What happened to your hand?"

Sam quickly spun around and saw her seventeen-year old son, Jason, standing behind her.

"Um, I burned it on a casserole dish," she lied lamely.

"Well what happened to the wall?" he asked, looking over at the large hole by the refrigerator.

"Nothing," Sam said, drying her hand on her pant leg. "Are-Are you hungry?"

Jason shook his head. "Not really."

He sat down on the edge of the kitchen table, and Sam gave a sad smile at just how much he resembled his father.

"How are you doing?" she asked softly. A wave of guilt rippled through her as she asked this question. She should've asked him and the others this question a week ago. Had she been selfish, wallowing in her own pain when she should've been busy taking care of her children?

Jason gave a half-hearted shrug.

"Come here," Sam said gently, stepping over to him and putting her arms around him. Jason hugged her back, not saying anything.

"Let me make you something to eat," Sam said, pulling away from him after a moment.

"I'm really not hungry," Jason told her.

"Honey, you've been sitting up in your room for days."

"I have some food up there," he mumbled. "I-I just came out because I wanted to-to-"

"-Do something?" Sam finished knowingly.

Jason nodded.

"I know," Sam whispered. "I've been spending the entire morning pretending I know how to fix all the things that are broken in here. The cabinets, the leaky sink…"

"Dad said he would get to those last weekend," Jason said softly.

Sam looked down at her feet. "Yeah…he did." She sighed and walked over towards the fridge. "You're eating a sandwich," she said in a voice that left no room for him to argue. She grabbed the ingredients from the fridge and set them down on the counter. She was slicing the bread when Jason spoke again.

"Do you know what the worst part is?"

Sam turned around and saw that the corner of her son's eyes were glistening. "What, sweetie?"

"None of us got to say goodbye."

Sam closed her eyes. "I know."

"I didn't even see him that day," Jason continued in a shaky voice. "I was still asleep when he left the house, and-and I was really busy the day before, so I barely saw him then, just-just at dinner. I never-I never-"

And then he broke down. Her seventeen-year old son, who now towered over her, was crying harder than Sam had seen him cry since he was a young child.

Sam could think of no words to comfort him, so she instead simply sat down next to him and put her arms around him again.

"And-And then even at his funeral," Jason continued. "There were so many people…they all just wanted to talk."

Sam knew what he meant. Freddie's funeral had been hard. She had expected nothing less. But what made it even worse were people who she hardly ever talked to coming up to her every five seconds telling her how sorry they were for her lost, and that she must remember that Freddie was in a better place now. More than once during the event, she had retreated into the restroom to hide from it all.

"-We barely even got to say goodbye to him then," Jason finished softy.

We didn't…Sam realized slowly. He's right.

"Go change out of your pajamas," Sam said suddenly. "And tell the twins and Tyler to get dressed too."

"Why?" Jason frowned.

"Because," Sam simply. "We're going out."

When her and Freddie had been dating, nearly twenty years ago, they had driven past the cemetery one time. Sam, seeing how freaked out Freddie was, had insisted that he stop the car so that the two of them could explore…

"Why you freaking out, Frednub?" Sam asked. "You afraid a ghost is gonna come get you?"

"No," Freddie frowned. "I just don't see why you want to stop at a cemetery in the middle of the night."

"It'll be fun," Sam reasoned, hopping out of the parked car and starting towards the iron gates. "It'll be like we're in a horror movie."

"Yes…how fun," Freddie mumbled, but he followed Sam anyway. As he always did.

They walked through the gate, past the many headstones that peeked out of the earth.

"Can we go now?" Freddie asked.

"You are scared," Sam said, though her voice was gentle and non-mocking.

"It's just…freaky," Freddie said.

Sam held out her hand for him, which he quickly took.

Just then they had heard a rustle.

"What was that?" Freddie frowned.

"Probably the wind," Sam reasoned.

"It's not windy."

They heard the noise again, and this time, even Sam had to admit it freaked her out a bit, since she couldn't tell where the noise was coming from.

"Let's go," Sam said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Freddie didn't need a second invitation, and he quickly led her back to their car.

"You realize we're probably going to miss the first half of our movie now," Freddie said.

"We'll catch it on DVD," Sam chuckled as Freddie pulled out his keys.

"I'm holding you to that, Puckett," Freddie smirked as he stuck his keys in the ignition. "Because I really wanted to-oh no!"

"What?" Sam frowned.

"My Galaxy Wars key chain," Freddie moaned, looking at his bare keys. "It must've fallen off in there!"

"Well, do you want to go back in and look for it?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

"No I'm good," Freddie said, starting the car. "Let's get out of here."

Now she was entering the cemetery for the second time in her life, followed by Jason, Emma, Ashton, and Tyler.

Tyler clung tightly to her arm as the family wove around headstones.

"It's okay, sweetie," Sam told him, stroking his dark hair.

When they reached the back of the cemetery, they found the headstone they were looking for, and Sam's heart broke as she read her husband's name etched on that slab of rock. But she wielded herself to hold back her tears.

"Okay," she said, still staring down at the headstone. "We-I know we never really got a chance to say goodbye to your dad, you guys. A real goodbye. But now we're here, and we're not surrounded by a bunch of people looking at us all like we're in a circus like at the funeral. So-So this is our chance. Whatever you want to say to your dad…do it now, when it's just us."

She looked at the four kids, who were all standing still next to her. For the longest time, none of them moved, and then finally, Jason stepped forward.

"Um, dad," he began slowly. "Dad, I-I miss you. A lot. I-I don't really know-"

He looked back at Sam, who gave him a reassuring nod.

"I still have that model train we were working on set up in my room," Jason continued. "You know, the-the one we never got to finish because I got busy with other things. I wish you were here to finish it with me…you told me that when we got it built, you'd put it up in the living room with all of your models." He took a deep breath. "I'm gonna get it up there. I-I've been working on that train for the past few nights…when I couldn't sleep. It-It's looking really good. I think…I think you would've liked it. Maybe-Maybe when I finish it, I'll take a picture or something…leave it here for you. Um, well, anyway...You were always there for me. For everything. When I needed someone to talk to about girls, school…anything. You taught me to drive last year, and-and when I was five you actually taught yourself how to ride a bike just so you could teach me…I love you dad."

And with that he stepped back next to Sam and his siblings.

Emma stepped up next.

"Hey dad," she said softly. "I miss you too. You-You were the best dad ever. Always. Even when you were harping on me to do better in school and stop getting in trouble…And I-I'm going to miss you coming to my soccer games and track meets, cheering for me when-when you barely knew anything about what was going on. I know I said that you embarrassed me when you would do that, but I really secretly did like it. And we-we were supposed to have that Galaxy Wars marathon soon. But I guess now we-we won't get to. I just…I just wish that you were still here, because-because I love you so much daddy."

She stepped back, and Sam put an arm around her. Emma wiped her eyes on her mother's sleeve, though more tears kept coming from her eyes.

Tyler took a hesitant step forward.

"Daddy," he said, his voice filled with fear and confusion. "I wish you were going to come back. Because then we could still play outside, and we could still go to the Pear Store and see all the cool computers together and you could still teach me how to fence some more so I could get better…because I know you always let me win. I love you, dad, and, um, I drew you this picture." He pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. It was him and Freddie. He was looking up at Freddie, who he had drawn very large and muscular. Underneath he had written My Hero. He set it down at the base of the headstone and then hurried back over to the others.

And then Ashton stepped up, and Sam realized that she had been crying silently the entire time.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I never really appreciated what a good dad you were. You were the best. You-You would stay up all night sometimes and sit in the backyard with me and look through the telescope you got me, trying to find all the constellations you read to me about when I was younger. We'd have War of Warlords tournaments and-and we'd always lose track of time and wind up doing that for the entire day. But I still would get mad at you when you would make me change my skirts and take off my make-up for school, or-or when you wouldn't let me go on dates because you said I was too young. And-And when you dropped me off at my friend's party last month, I made you drop me off down the street because I said-I said I didn't want everyone to see how dorky you were. But now I'd give anything for you to run after me right before I walked into school to give me the textbook I left at home, or pick me up from cheerleading practice in one of your hideous sweaters. I love you, daddy, and I-I'm going to think about you every day."

She took a step back, crying harder now. Jason hugged her and Sam stroke her hair.

"You guys know how much your dad loved you, right?" Sam said in a cracked voice. "He would do anything for you guys. You all lit up his world, from the second I told him I was pregnant with each of you."

"We know," Jason mumbled, wiping the corner of his eyes.

"Are you going to say anything to him, mommy?" Tyler asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah…I am."

Her heart beating fast, she stepped forward, away from her children, and sat down at the base of the headstone.

"I never thought we would be separated like this, baby," Sam whispered. "You-You've been in my life for so long…and now, just like that, I'm supposed to go on without you…we had so much left to do together. Graduations, anniversaries, weddings, becoming grandparents, taking that trip to Europe like we always talked about, retiring somewhere warm…You always told me that you thought I was the stronger one in our relationship, but-but that's not true. You were the rock, and-and I don't know how I'm going to do anything without you. I'm scared, so scared. What's going to happen when I start to forget the exact shade of brown your eyes were? What's going to happen when I start to forget how those sparks felt every time you'd kiss me? The way your voice sounded?" She gave a small smile. "But I'm never going to forget how perfect we were together." Then she sighed and looked down at her lap. "I hate that you left us, even-even though it wasn't your fault. But-But I still love you so much, Freddie. And I'm never going to stop. No matter how much time's going to pass. You were my first love, the first boy who ever made me feel like a princess. Whether it was by just telling me I looked beautiful when I first woke up in the morning, or by-" she looked down at her finger at her gold wedding band and diamond engagement ring. "Or by asking me the best question I've ever been asked."

She wiped her cheeks and pulled a small envelope from her pocket and placed it down next to Tyler's picture.

"When we were dating, I-I wrote this for you. It was the first love letter that I ever wrote," she said. "But I never gave it to you. I guess I thought it was too mushy. But I kept it, and I still remember exactly what it said." She cleared her throat. "Freddie. We've only been together for a few months now, but already I know that these feelings that I have for you don't show up often in a person. I can't even remember a time when I've been as happy as when I'm with you. I'm not the ideal girlfriend. I steal your food, insult your mom and cause you bodily pain frequently, even though I'm trying to hold back on that last one. But you're definitely any girl's ideal boyfriend. You compliment me, you treat me so well, and you go out of your way just to make me smile. I know that I say that you're a complete nub and only tell you 'I love you' when I'm sure no one else will hear it, where as you'd happily shout it from your fire escape, but-but I really do mean it when I do say it. And even when I don't say it, I do love you. I don't know what I did to get someone like you in my life, but I know that I'd never feel anything close to how I feel now if I didn't. I love you so much, and I'm blushing even now, just writing that."

She sighed as she finished reciting the letter. "I figured I might as well finally give you that. I just wish I would've had the courage to do it sooner." She reached back into her pocket and pulled out a single red rose and set it down as well.

"This is the same exact type of flower that you gave me on our first date," she said. "And the same type you gave me right before you proposed. You insisted that we have these at our wedding, and you brought me a bouquet of these after I gave birth to each of our kids. And then you'd always bring them to me at random times for no good reason at all. Now it's your turn."

She stood up, dusting the dirt off her pants, watching her tears hit the ground as they slid off her face.

"I love you," she said heavily. "Always."

She turned around and stepped back towards the four children. "Come on," she said softly. "Let's get home."

Without a word, the family began walking back to the car. Sam trailed behind the children a little bit, clutching her thin jacket as small breeze rushed over her.

Just then, she heard a small crack as she stepped her foot to the ground. She frowned and looked down, kicking away some of the leaves that littered the ground. She squinted her eyes as she saw a strange object underneath her foot. She bent down to get a better look at it.

She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

It was a Galaxy Wars keychain. The same one that Freddie had lost all those years ago when they had come in here on their way to their date. It even had Freddie's name engraved on it, and the small Girly Cow sticker she had stuck over Nug Nug to annoy him.

How could it have still been here after all this time? But she didn't even care about that at the moment. She grasped it gently in her hand before sliding it into her pocket and following her kids back to the car.

A week later, Sam stepped out into the backyard, carrying a garbage bag in her hand. She lifted the lid of the trashcan and deposited the bag inside, and then began to head back into the house.

But something stopped her.

Right before she was about to step into the house again, she suddenly turned her head towards the garden Freddie had started.

"Oh my God," Sam whispered, slowly walking towards it.

It was beautiful. Everything had suddenly come to life. There were small tweaks of leaves everywhere that Sam knew would begin to bloom into flowers shortly now. But the thing that caught her eyes were the rose bushes that surrounded the garden. Every single one of them had numerous bright red roses on them. Sam ran her fingers over the silky petals of them, smiling to herself.

"You did it, baby," she whispered.