A/N: Don't worry, I didn't forget about this story! I've been on vacation, and the good thing about that is I've had a lot of time to think of new ideas!

A notable change: After thinking about it, it seemed more in character to have Sam's mom leave more than just a few times. Therefore, I changed the wording when I listed times she left to take out the numbers.

To those who reviewed, favorited, and followed, thank you! I agree that iCarly fan-fiction that has a good plot and isn't OOC is hard to find...that's why I wanted to try and write some myself! I'm glad you guys like it; I'm trying my best to make the characters as close to the show as possible :)

Sam let out a guttural, animal-like scream as she whipped her head around, looking desperately for her backpack. Her laptop was in there, and that was basically the only nice thing she had. Breathing heavily, she ran to the sides of the ledge, looking in the corners, and then hopped back up to stand where she was previously sitting. She scanned the area around her, but she had to face it: her backpack was gone.

Sam mumbled a string of curses as she sat back down, pounding the side of her hand against the cement. Her eyes landed once more on the overly bright blue supermarket sign. Sam supposed that even though she couldn't buy anything, going to Walmart still wasn't a bad idea. She could hang around for a few hours until security kicked her out, and they had bathrooms and water. Hey, maybe she'd even "borrow" a pair of flip flops. She needed them more than the store did, anyways.

Fuming, but having her mind made up, Sam slide off the ledge and started walking towards the store. She swore she could literally feel her blood boiling under her skin. Because of some whack-job all the things worth anything to her were now gone. If she could only find the guy she'd…end up getting arrested for battery, no doubt. But still, those were her most valuable items, except for her PearPhone which, thank god, was still tucked safely in her pocket. Her belongings deserved to be avenged.

Lost in thought, Sam didn't see the rather scruffy, middle aged man walking until she literally ran right into him. She looked up at the man, taking in his unshaved face, bloodshot eyes, and twitching mouth. "Watch where you're going jerkface!" she snapped, turning to keep walking. The man's eyes looked up and down her body.

"Aren't you feisty, blondie?" he rasped, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a smile. Sam stepped back away from him and proceeded to grab the guy's arm and flip him, staring right into his red and dilated eyes as she did so.

"Don't you touch me, you -!" she yelled down at him as a car horn blared loudly, masking her last words. Stomping on the middle of his gut, she turned and ran as fast as she could towards the apartment complex. She wasn't all that scared, she could take the guy in a fight, but from personal experience the police don't appreciate a brawl in the middle of the street. And then they'd ask where her mom is and…no, thank you, she'll pass on that. Plus, the dude looked like he was on drugs. She met a guy back in juvie whose friend got into a fight with someone on bath salts, and he said it was like fighting a machine: near invincible and unforgiving.

Sam kept running until she was back where she started, standing in the lobby of Carly and Freddie's apartment. She leaned her back against the wall, trying to catch her breath while looking over at the graciously empty front lobby desk. She could feel her hands shaking; as much as she hated to admit it the night had her a little shaken up. Swallowing, she pulled her PearPhone out of her back pocket. She had come to the solution she was trying so hard to ignore the whole night, her Plan Z.

'There's no way Ms. Benson is going to let me stay there,' Sam told herself. 'Yeah,' said a quieter voice in her head. 'But who says she's there? Who says Freddie would tell her?'

"Ugghhh" Sam groaned, scrolling through her contacts until she came upon one labeled "FredNub". It was almost 11. Maybe he wouldn't even be up…"

She tapped on his name and put the phone up to her ear, listening to the rhythmic ringing tone. She tried to pretend that she wasn't starting to shake all over now. 'Sam Puckett isn't fazed by anything,' she told herself, swallowing a lump in her throat. 'Kicked out, assaulted, it doesn't matter.'

On the 5th ring, she was sure he wasn't going to answer. On the 6th ring, he did.

"What the -" he sighed. "Sam, I was almost asleep!" Freddie groaned, his words muddled slightly with drowsiness. He wasn't trying to be quiet, maybe his mom really wasn't there.

"Hey Fred-wad, is you mom home?"

"No, she's over at Carly's helping Spencer with the funeral stuff. Why is that so important right now?" She could hear his frustration over the phone, but she couldn't help smiling. It definitely wasn't Carly's, but at least she'd have somewhere to sleep tonight…even if it was at the geek's house.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, so, I'm coming over." There was silence for a few seconds before Freddie spoke, sounding significantly more awake.

"Right now? What - I just - no you're not." Sam bit her lip to stop from laughing. She could just imagine the shocked look on his face.

"Yep, I am." Sam countered with finality, hitting the red button to hang up.

She stepped into the elevator for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, and pressed the glowing white button labeled "8".