Author's Note: Hey there, sports fans! I hope you're all having a fabulous week. I've been taking somewhat of a unexpected hiatus from writing this week and just chilling out. I finally saw both "Dancing Crazy" and "iHire An Idiot" and they were alright. At least Dan and Nickelodeon are off of my hitlist for now ;) I'm releasing this new update earlier than usual on this beautiful Friday afternoon for two reasons: my older sister is in town visiting for the weekend and I'm going to watch U2 live in concert tonight, which is going to be off the chain :D This new chapter is a lot longer than its predecessors, so I hope you'll all enjoy yourselves.

Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly or Friday, which is my favourite day of the week.

Even with a cool breeze and warm sunshine cascading over her skin, Carly was not feeling at all like herself on this particular day. She hadn't slept well in the past week since the accident. This was for a host of reasons, mainly because she felt responsible in part for causing injury to both Sam and Freddie, the latter being at the forefront of her mind.

But mostly, it was because of the strange encounter with the even stranger man named Michael that had occurred in her bedroom a few days ago. It was one thing for a complete stranger to scale roughly 8 storeys worth of fire escapes to get into a teenage girl's bedroom just to get her on her own. But it was a completely different thing when this strange person wasn't a creepy stalker or mentally deranged in the least (well, hoped was a better guess), but had important information that he needed to pass onto you when you thought you had almost single-handedly killed your two best friends because of super powers that you may or may not have, and which you were still somewhat in denial about.

Carly was developing an intense migraine just thinking about it. The whole episode with Michael had to have been some elaborate dream. But even as she said the words, she instinctively knew it wasn't true. Somehow, it had really happened and Michael had explained why she had tried to stop Freddie from falling down the stairs.

Try as she might, Carly still couldn't wrap her head around that particular fact. Sure, a guy climbing in and out of her bedroom window was normal next to the notion that she, Carly Shay, was now bonded to Freddie Benson and possibly as much in love with him as he was with her.

She knew she had to go to school today. But she was dreading the moment when she would finally lock eyes with Freddie since the accident. She'd seen him at the hospital when he'd first been admitted, but he had been asleep. Since then, she'd been pointedly avoiding him, even though they lived a foot apart from each other in Bushwell Plaza. Carly still marvelled at how she'd been able to accomplish that while also avoiding contact with Mrs. Benson in the process. She didn't even want to know how she'd be received by the latter, considering this was the second time that Freddie had gotten badly hurt because of her in the space of a year.

Carly felt certain that Mrs. Benson would blame her for this mishap. And truthfully, she couldn't agree more this time around. The guilt was rapidly eating away at her. Plus, there was another feeling altogether gnawing at Carly's insides, which she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried.

This was torture.

Occasionally, the iCarly trio would carpool with either Spencer or Mrs. Benson to save on gas when the three of them would go to Ridgeway together for school. Both Freddie and Carly had learnt a long time ago that carpooling with Sam's mom could mean the difference between life and death with the way that woman drove. But there was no way that Carly was getting a ride with Mrs. Benson, not this morning. She needed more time to prepare herself for when she'd eventually see Freddie at school.

"Why can't you take the bus?" Spencer whined.

"Because I just can't. Spencer, I need you to give me and Sam a ride to school," Carly protested hysterically.

"But I don't wanna!" Spencer howled dramatically.

"Spencer!" Carly hissed indignantly.

"N-o-o! There's that cute waitress at Gallini's that I wanted to go talk to this morning."

"Spencer, you and I both know that you're not gonna talk to the cute waitress at Gallini's."

"But I could! 43rd time's a charm."

"Spencer!"

"Car-lay!"

"Spencer!"

"Alright, I'll drop you and Sam off at school," Spencer relented.

"But if I don't end up marrying the cute waitress from Gallini's, you will rue the day. Rue it, I tell you."

"I'll try to live with the guilt," Carly retorted dully, retrieving her cellphone to call Sam.

Things between Sam and Carly had been tentative after the trip to the hospital. But Sam had rallied and gone right back to her old self and Carly had tried to go on like nothing had happened. But Carly was still far too pensive and lost in her own thoughts in the car with Spencer as he drove them to school. Sam didn't try to rouse Carly from her reverie, but munched contentedly on several Fat Cakes at once in the back seat.

"The cut on your head looks like it's healing up quite nicely," Carly noted softly when she and Sam walked into school and down that familiar hallway to their lockers.

Sam shrugged nonchalantly when they finally stopped in front of their lockers. She unlocked the door with the combination and retrieved what looked like a medium-rare steak that had been cooking in her locker overnight in the grill she had installed a few months ago. She speared the steak on a long fork which she also retrieved from her locker and held it in one hand while talking to Carly.

"Meh, it's not so bad, I've had way worse than this before. You remember when my Mom first brought Frothy home from the pet store?" Sam asked casually while tucking into her piece of steak.

"That wasn't a pet store. Your Mom got Frothy from a Russian cab driver, in exchange for a lemur that her boyfriend brought illegally into the country." Carly pointed out wryly.

"Yeah. I told Mom it wasn't a good idea dating someone from South America," Sam quipped dully after slamming her locker door shut, tearing off a strip of meat with her teeth.

"The point is, Frothy bit me on the shoulder when we first got him and that cut throbbed for weeks, plus it turned green. This is a drop in the bucket all things considered," she added more seriously.

"You're right. This is nothing compared to getting bitten by a rabid three-legged cat," Carly quipped with a sarcastic smile, beginning to feel like her old self more and more.

"There you go. It's still pretty chizz with what happened. I mean, when we fell down the stairs, I was sure I would hit the sofa, not Freddork. Weird, right?" Sam asked slowly.

"Yeah, really weird," Carly answered with a shaky smile, feeling some of her old nerves returning to her.

She frowned when she saw a group of girls (recognising a few of them as her fellow friends and classmates) congregating on the stairwell off to the right.

"What's going on over there?" she asked conspiratorially of Sam.

Sam snorted in response and fixed Carly with her signature smirk.

"Isn't it obvious? Fredduccini's returning to Ridgeway as the injured nub – once again," she responded facetiously.

Carly's breath caught in her throat as the crowd of giggling girls thinned and a tall figure with dark brown hair walked through them. She had been mentally preparing herself for this all morning, all week really when you factored in the time spent between deciphering Michael's strange words and now.

But Carly still wasn't ready, still hadn't been expecting the rapid thudding of her heart sounding in her chest nor the sudden clamminess of her hands when Freddie came down the stairwell and started walking towards her and Sam.

Save for a few cuts and scrapes on his face and arms and his generally pallid complexion, Freddie still looked the same as ever. He was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans with black Converse sneakers on his feet and one of his favourite red and white short sleeved golf shirts, one which especially hugged his arm and chest muscles, making him look impossibly burly in all the right places. His brown hair was hanging loosely around his face, part of his fringe partially covering one of his hazel brown eyes like a shield.

To Carly, it felt like she was taking in every single aspect of Freddie the closer he came: his two feet sauntering forward with a subtle grace in them, the way his muscles flexed as his arms swung back and forth at his sides (had Freddie always had that nimble swagger?), the indentation his eyebrows formed when he finally locked eyes with her, the way his mouth creased ever so subtly as if he were caught mid-sentence in saying something extremely profound.

"Hey, Carly. Hey, Sam," Freddie greeted cordially when he finally came to stand in front of his locker.

"So nice of you to finally grace us with your presence, Fredda-chump," Sam greeted back maliciously.

"Sam, having a concussion is very serious. I figured you'd know that since you were the one who pushed me down the stairs," Freddie reminded callously while opening his locker.

"Your sensitivity radar's on high alert, which means you couldn't have been that badly hurt to begin with. Otherwise I'd probably be back in juvie by now," Sam pointed out sardonically as she finished off the rest of her steak.

"Very true. Good thing I told my Mom I was wearing open-toed shoes instead of blaming the whole thing on you," Freddie returned sweetly while retrieving a few of his text books.

"Much obliged to ya," Sam quipped with a click of her tongue and a point of her finger in Freddie's direction miming a gun shot.

"I see your mouth's still working fine, so I'm assuming the rest of your injuries weren't critical either," Freddie quipped dryly.

"What can I say? Mama's got the strength of a bull hyped up on a beaver tranquiliser." Sam replied with an indifferent wave of her hand.

"What about you, Carly? Are you ok?" Freddie asked suddenly.

This snapped Carly out of her reverie, her posture stiffening up even more at Freddie addressing her directly after chatting non-stop to Sam for the past few minutes

"Oh, I'm fine. I just got a few cuts and bruises on my face and shoulder, no biggie," Carly offered with a nervous smile, running her fingers absent-mindedly through her silky black hair while she spoke.

"Oh, alright. It's just that I haven't seen you around Bushwell Plaza that much the past few days. I thought that maybe Spencer was keeping you locked up in your bedroom so that you would avoid the stairs at all costs," Freddie joked feebly with a small smile on his face.

"Oh no, it's not like that. Spencer hasn't been keeping me hostage in the apartment," Carly explained rapidly, trying to match Freddie's jocular tone.

"Then what is it, Carly? Why haven't you come to see me, not even once?" Freddie asked seriously.

Sam shut her locker with a loud bang and turned to face Carly and Freddie. Her face was composed, but beneath the surface, her mind was boiling over with repressed curiosity at this sudden estranged dynamic between her best friend and their iCarly tech producer. And then Freddie started babbling randomly while Carly tried to recover her composure, Sam watching them intently all the while.

"Almost everyone from school tried to come visit me at the hospital, Mom ended up having to put up one of those yellow lines that they use at crime scenes to keep them at bay. Gibby came to see me, shirtless of course and subsequently got thrown out of the hospital; Spencer brought T-Bo with him, and he tried to sell me tacos on a stick. Even Sam came to see me; granted, it was only so she could borrow 20 bucks, but still. Even some random guy named 'Michael' apparently left me some flowers at the nurse's station, so that just leaves you. Where were you, Carly?" Freddie questioned all in one breath, staring intently at Carly all the while.

Carly stopped short before answering, a look of bewilderment and surprise coursing along her features. Someone named Michael had left Freddie some flowers at the nurse's station? Could it be the same Michael, the mysterious man who had gained access to her bedroom just a few days ago intending on catching her on her own? If so, why did he want to see Freddie? To give him the exact same information, just like he had done with her? Or were Michael's motivations really not as innocent as he had made them out to be? Carly's head was swimming with a myriad of questions which seemed to have no designated answer which met the requirements for overriding normalcy.

She pulled herself reluctantly away from the inner workings of her tired brain and focused on both Freddie and Sam, who were frowning in confusion at her vapid indifference to their presence beside her.

"Freddie, I…" Carly trailed off haphazardly, air involuntarily trapped in her throat.

It was hard for Carly to focus, especially when Freddie looked at her like that, like his eyes were piercing right through her chest straight down into her soul…

Just then the bell rang, cutting abruptly into both Carly and Freddie's thoughts.

"Time to head to class. Let's go, Carls…" Sam announced rapidly while slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

A swarm of giggling girls were beginning to form around Freddie once more, desperate for his attention.

"I'll see you in class, Freddie," Carly managed to blurt out before Sam took hold of her hand and led her away before she could be swallowed up by the mass of girls surrounding them.

Carly didn't look back as she walked behind Sam to English, their first class of the day. For a split second, a pang formed in her chest, especially when she imagined that Freddie had looked sad right before they had abruptly parted ways.

Carly found it extremely hard to concentrate in English in first period. She tried to make herself believe this was because Sam was sitting behind her and by the sounds of it, beaming unsuspecting victims in the head with contents out of a slingshot. On certain days, the unlucky person just got beamed with expired slices of ham; but on a day like this when Sam was being particularly vindictive, people were getting beamed in the head with pebbles and marbles all along Carly's aisle where she sat.

But it had absolutely nothing to do with Sam's delinquent behaviour. Carly could block that out easily enough and focus wholly on what Mr. Devlin was trying to teach them. But today was different because Freddie had decided to sit to her right in the aisle of desks next to hers. Sam usually occupied this seat while Freddie often chose to sit behind Carly with only a view of the back of her head. But today, everything felt like it was happening in reverse for Carly, because she found herself unable to stop staring at Freddie throughout class.

And it didn't help that there was barely a few inches between Carly and Freddie's elbows, which were resting on the wooden tops of their respective desks. Carly could literally feel the sparks of electricity which passed between the small hairs on both hers and Freddie's arms, sending goosebumps rippling all over her body. The lack of contact was beginning to create a vibrating hum all around Carly, making her whole body feel like it was on fire.

Every time she thought Freddie was about to catch her eye, Carly would swiftly revert to looking dead ahead at Mr. Devlin or pretend to stare idly at the pen dangling in her right hand while she tried to take notes. She could hear every single breath of Freddie's in such close quarters; the low murmur of air pushing in and out of his throat was beginning to drive Carly insane. And then there was the way that his Adam's apple throbbed when he occasionally took a sip of his water during intervals or the way his muscles creaked subtly in his arms and legs when he stretched out to get more comfortable. Carly was startled when she realised that she didn't know what Mr. Devlin had been trying to teach them for the past 30 minutes.

And there was still 50 more minutes of this torture to get through.

Carly groaned inaudibly and buried her head in her books resting on her desk top, praying that the minutes on the clock above the white board would just whiz by.

Much of the day continued on in this fashion, Freddie sitting next to Carly in almost all of their classes that they had together, much to her intense chagrin. She, Freddie and Sam had Math as their last class for the day and Carly was already counting down the time when Spencer would come pick her up from school and take her home. She had already begun hurriedly packing her textbook, notebook and pencil case into her backpack 2 minutes before class was supposed to end, escaping being the only tangible thought in her mind at this point.

Mercifully, the bell finally rang and Carly was literally the first one out of her seat, her backpack slung over her shoulder as she darted out of the classroom.

As it turned out, a couple of classes being held on the first floor as Carly's Math class had been let out early. So Carly was surprised when she encountered a horde of Ridgeway students, all milling around her as she proceeded towards the stairs. She wasn't aware that Freddie was behind her until he called out to her.

"Carly!"

She whipped around on the balls of her feet just as a guy slammed into her shoulder, throwing her off balance just a little. Freddie was by Carly's side in an instant, gliding through the crowd to get to her. Several people continued pushing past both Freddie and Carly as they stood together, staring wordlessly at each other. Another guy's school bag hit Carly right in the back, sending her stumbling forward right into Freddie.

Freddie instinctively reached out and grabbed Carly's arms to steady her as more of the student body flooded all around them. His back was facing the stairwell below them and he quickly shuffled his feet so that both he and Carly were standing out of harm's way. And he had done all of this while still keeping a firm hold on Carly's arms, slowly encircling her waist to steady the rest of her body.

She was made aware of this fact when she felt a ticklish burn coursing along her pale skin before looking down to see the proof of Freddie touching her. Carly looked up at Freddie to say something and stopped short. His brown orbs were flickering with dancing amber flames of intensity, much like earlier that morning when he had asked her why she hadn't come to see him since his trip to the hospital. Once again, Carly was having trouble breathing as her heart rate began speeding up without her consent. Michael had said that she and Freddie had somehow bonded during that little mishap on the stairwell in her apartment – was this why she was so hyper aware of every aspect of him today? The way he looked, the way he moved, the way he talked, the way he breathed? Carly wasn't even aware that her hands were now resting on Freddie's chest while they stood together in the crowded hallway.

"Carly? Are you ok?" Freddie asked in concern when Carly made no effort to break the awkward silence between them.

Carly shuddered involuntarily at the sound of his voice, titillating and soothing against her thrumming eardrums, the air from his breath subtly fanning her face. Even though much of the crowd had dissipated and there was no longer any chance of either of them falling, Freddie still hadn't let go of Carly, nor she of him either.

How much time had passed? Carly surmised that it had only been a few seconds since Freddie had caught up with her after class. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Time constantly slowing down just for the two of them – time handed to them to make their connection all the more strong and palpable?

Carly wasn't about to stick around and find out.

"I have to go," she murmured wearily.

She found just enough strength to push Freddie's hands off of her arms and to disentangle herself from his grasp. Then Carly swung her bag strap over her shoulder, swept down the stairs and out of the school without a backwards glance.

Carly barely said an entire sentence to Spencer whilst in the car with him. Luckily, Spencer was in an extremely animated and talkative mood, eager to share his latest sculpture concept with his kid sister. And Carly was only too happy to nod along tentatively and pretend she was listening to a word Spencer was saying as they drove back to Kennedy Square. Spencer didn't pick up on Carly's mood at all as they strolled through the lobby of Bushwell Plaza and pointedly ignored Lewbert's usual rant about a recently mopped floor.

Carly finally managed to shake Spencer off, making an excuse about having to do homework. She'd fed Sam the same excuse, sending her best friend a text on her Pear Phone. Naturally, Sam had texted back and still offered to come by and watch Carly do homework while eating some of Spencer's leftover Spaghetti Tacos. Carly declined the somewhat generous offer, feigning exhaustion and wanting to get an early night once she had finished with her mountain of homework which awaited her. But mostly, she just wanted some time alone with her tumultuous thoughts, to try and sift through the chaos to make some sense out of it all.

In truth, Carly had already done the majority of her homework during lunch because she hadn't had an appetite. So the residue of her homework took her about 20 minutes to finish. When that was done, Carly spent another 2 hours pacing the length of her bedroom soundlessly, stopping occasionally to lie back on her bed and stare at the ceiling. Then she finally had enough and decided to take a shower to calm her nerves.

The shower seemed to do the trick, the hot water coursing along Carly's skin and easing the tension in her muscles. She stayed in the shower longer than usual and ended up washing her hair and rinsing it thoroughly under the shower nozzle. When she eventually switched off the faucets, she towelled her hair dry and slipped into a pair of light grey skinny jeans, a long-sleeved off-the shoulder dark grey shirt with a black tank top underneath and some fuzzy slippers. Her black hair had become bouncy and wavy as it began to dry slowly. Carly entered her bedroom once more and decided to put on her stereo and listen to some music till Spencer called her to come downstairs for dinner, feeling slightly more relaxed.

That was until she heard someone rapping sharply on her bedroom window from outside the fire escape. Then her composure faltered completely.

Author's Note: I know what you're thinking: when is this damn Snapplelinz going to stop with her ridiculous cliffhangers? How many more strange men can come through Carly's bedroom window in a single story? Well let's be honest, Dan could easily make that happen with an episode of iCarly ;) Alright, I'm off to go primp and put on my rock attire. Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews and critiques of this story, it means so much to me. I hope you all have a terriffic weekend, cheers!