Chapter 3

Well as my reviewers requested I am writing chapter three.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned iCarly but I don't so I shall just rely on fanfiction to bring couples together and start some freaking drama in one of the greatest Nickelodeon shows there is.

Hope that you enjoy!

(Oh yeah and I use reference to a powder keg in a few paragraphs. Just in case you don't know what I mean by that, a powder keg is a barrel of gun powder. Just making sure no one gets confused)

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"Freddie," Spencer said knocking on the door with his knee. His hands were full. He was balancing two full plates of eggs, bacon and biscuits in one two overfilled glasses of orange juice in the other. It took a few moments before the door slowly opened before him and Freddie stepped aside. Spencer walked in and set the two plates on the table with the glasses.

"Made breakfast," Spencer said, "You're probably sick of Chinese take-out."

"Yeah kind of," Freddie said sitting in front of the plate.

"Carly says hi," Spencer said, "Even if you don't want to talk to anyone, everyone else misses you."

'Hm," Freddie said poking at the eggs and taking a bite silently. That's how their conversations went. Spencer would say something and Freddie would either mumble something or just stay silent. Spencer checked his arms every day and every day there were more cuts.

He knew there was no use calling a psychologist. For one, it cost way too much money and two, Freddie had always been able to talk to Spencer and he wouldn't now. What were the chances he'd open up instantly for a total stranger? So every day Spencer would go over to Freddie's house and eat with him and try to talk to him. After his fail attempt to stop him from cutting himself, he couldn't find what he was using to cut himself with so he wasn't able to take it away from him, he stopped trying. He first had to convince Freddie that life was worth living before he could make him live it.

"Everyone misses you," Spencer said, "Even Sam asked about you."

"Well she doesn't have her play thing to mess with anymore," Freddie said.

"She thinks of you more than just a play thing," Spencer said.

"Yeah right," Freddie said. They ate in silence.

"I have to go," Spencer said scooting his chair back, "Will you be okay alone?"

"I have been a lone for two months now Spencer," Freddy said, his first full sentence in a week, "I'll be okay for a few hours."

"Alright," Spencer said walking to the door, "If you need me then just call me. You know my number."

Freddy didn't say anything as Spencer walked out of the apartment. He didn't want to say anything. He stood and walked to the living room. On the DVD case filled with educational videos sat a small assortment of pictures in glass frames. Each picture showed a different scene but the same two smiling faces on various vacations. He reached up and took the picture of him and his mother at the Grand Canyon. They had had a lot of fun on that vacation and were planning on going again this summer until his mother died. The car accident had killed her right at the scene, even before the car stopped rolling on the gravel. Freddie could still see his mothers face as her last few seconds faded away. How the accident had started, no one knew except for Freddie. He knew every last detail of what had happened. His heart burned in his chest as he remembered that night.

It was a new moon so the dark night seemed even blacker than usual. They had been stuck in the car for three hours after visiting Freddie's sick uncle in a hospital in California. Most of the ride had been quiet, both exhausted from the few days they spent in California. The air around them seemed thick and tense, almost as if they both knew what was about to happen.

"Mom," Freddie had said, the first words said in two hours, "I want to move out."

He was sitting in a powder keg and just gave off sparks.

"Why?" His mother asked, looking over at him franticly.

"You and I both know that I am mature for my age," Freddie said, "And I have a good job so I am secure money wise."

"That doesn't matter," Mrs. Benson had said, "You are staying with me until you graduate."

"I don't need you anymore," Freddie said. The little spark ignited the keg.

"Don't need me?" Mrs. Benson said clenching the steering wheel, "What am I not doing for you? What am I doing wrong?"

"No mom," Freddie said, not exactly sure what to say to that, "That's not it."

"Yes it is," Mrs. Benson said getting slightly upset, "There is no other reason! I am doing something wrong."

"Mom," Freddie said, his aggravation of the ride getting the best of him, "You don't give me any freedom. I'm not even allowed to go get the mail without your permission."

"I don't want you to get hurt," His mother said her voice cracking; surprisingly she started to tear up.

"Mom," Freddie said, "No one lives until they get hurt at least a little bit. You have me in this little world where all the corners and points are covered with pillows and the floor is covered in pillows. You're suffocating me in this world you call safe."

His mother stared at him, the pain filling her eyes. Freddie didn't know what to say he took his eyes away to the road just in time to see the headlights coming straight towards them. His mind went blank as the headlights grew larger and larger, coming closer.

"Mom," Freddie whispered. His mother turned her head just to see the truck collide with the front of their car. Almost as if in slow motion, Freddie watched his mother as she stood, her seatbelt already off, and threw herself in front of Freddie. The medal crashed around them and the glass shattered, splintering the air with horrific sounds. Freddie could hear the sound of cracking bone. He opened his eyes to his mothers face as blood splashed from her mouth, the two cars crushing her.

"Freddie," His mother whispered, her eyes filling with tears. The car lurched and spun over and over until it finally came to a stop. Freddie looked into his mothers eyes as the gleam that shined constantly faded until her eyes were as dull as old leather. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her body go limp on his.

"Mom," Freddie said, fear creeping through every vein in his body, "Mom?" The silence that followed rang through his ears like roaring thunder in the depths of his body.

"No," He cried trying but unable to move, "Please, no mom."

Freddie held the picture in his hand as his body shook with his sobs. He raised his arm above his head and threw it down to the ground, the glass shattering on the floor. He fell to his knees and slammed his fist on the ground. He yanked his pants down his ankles and picked up the largest piece of glass. He held it to his thigh and sliced it across his skin, leaving a dark red gash. It was deeper than the ones he had done before. The glass was thinner and sharer than the piece of mirror he had been using.

Again, he pressed the glass against the skin and cut through the skin. A few moments, and cuts later, he pressed his face against the floor holding back the sobs he had hidden deep in his body. He clenched the picture of him and his mother in his hands smearing blood onto it.

"Freddie," His body stiffened at the sound of his name being called as the front door opened and closed Spencer stepped into view, "I forgot my jacket."

"Freddie," Spencer said grabbing his shoulders and lifting him into his lap, "Damn it Freddie."

"I can't take it," Freddie sobbed, "It's my entire fault."

"Listen to me," Spencer said, eyeing the picture in Freddie's hand, "You need to stop hurting yourself."

"It doesn't matter," Freddie cried, "I see no point in this anymore. I'm alone in this hellhole you call life and I need to get out of this, No one cares about me and no one loves me."

"Freddie," Spencer whispered taking the boys chin in his hand and turning his head to look into his eyes, "There is a lot more to life than you can see. You are the most talented person I have ever met and that's why I can't get enough of you. That's the only reason I am even here with you right now. I have spent months trying to find a way to tell you that my entire being revolves around you and I can't believe that it took me seeing you curled up on the ground to get the courage to tell you."

"What do you mean?" Freddie asked.

"I have had these strange feelings for you for months now," Spencer started, his voice shaking, "When I came home early that day and found you, I had actually came to talk to you about it. I didn't know how you would react or worse how you wouldn't. When I found you on the floor it absolutely killed me. I hate seeing you like this. You are more to me than you could ever believe and almost loosing you and seeing you with these cuts is the worst kind of pain anyone could feel."

"You're lying," Freddie said trying to pull away, "You're just trying to stop me from hurting myself anymore."

Spencer pulled him closer staring down into his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. He held his chin between his fingers and held him as he leaned in and pressed their lips together. Freddie felt Spencer slide his tongue across his lips, as if asking permission to enter. He spread his lips slightly and let Spencer kiss him deeply, letting their tongues swim together. Spencer let Freddie go and leaned back against the wall behind them. Freddy climbed onto Spencer and grabbed a hold of his shirt, kissing him deeply. Freddy pulled away, gasping for air and looked down at Spencer.

"I'm not lying," Spencer whispered wrapping his arms around Freddy's waist and pulling him close. Freddie, his eyes filling with tears collapsed into Spencer's arms. Once again, Spencer held Freddie as he cried.

"Spencer," Freddie whispered sniffling, "I am fragile right now. I'm really not sure how long I will be like this but you need to be ready to wait while I become myself again."

"Freddie," Spencer said smiling, "As long it doesn't involve you hurting yourself anymore, I will wait forever."

Freddie lay on Spencer's body, his own becoming weak, and buried his face in his shirt. Spencer held him close and sighed. This would be a long beginning to a long relationship.