Author's Note: Hey, everyone! I hope you're all having a great week. Mine's been kinda trippy in all honesty, can't really figured out what happened to it. Besides some minor Internet issues, I'm able to upload this new chapter for your viewing pleasure. If I appear to be extra gleeful, it's because this is my favourite chapter to write so far - you shall soon see why ;) Happy reading.
Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly, Dan Schneider or Nickelodeon. But damn, that sure would be swell.
Carly's heart was in her chest while she stared in horror at her bedroom window, where the drapes still covered it. Her first thought went to Michael, but then she frowned in confusion. He had appeared in her bedroom the last time – why would he suddenly take the trouble to knock first on the window before entering?
Just then a soft muffled voice rang out from the darkness.
"Carly?"
Carly knew that voice well. She experienced a great many competing emotions all at once when she heard it: warmth, comfort, surprise.
Fear.
It was Freddie.
"Carly!" His voice called out once again.
His insistent tone was far too compelling to ignore now. A fresh batch of goosebumps erupted all over Carly's arms, which had absolutely nothing to do with the shower she'd just taken. With an audible sigh, Carly trudged towards her bedroom window and opened up the curtains with a loud metallic scratching sound.
The parted curtains revealed Freddie standing just beyond the window pane, his usually neat brown hair tousled, as if he had run his hands through it about a billion times beforehand. A sudden tingling sensation shot through Carly's fingertips, her eyes drawn back towards Freddie's dishevelled features. He was still wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing all day at school. This vulnerable side of him made her heart pound even more.
"Freddie," Carly murmured, as if saying his name for the first time in her life.
Freddie stepped back automatically to give Carly enough room to open her window and climb through it, till she stood in front of him on the metal grates of the fire escape.
"Hi," Freddie murmured with a self-conscious wave.
"Hi," Carly murmured back, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest in an equally self-conscious manner.
A few seconds of uncomfortable silence followed before Carly asked her next question.
"It's pretty dark out. What are you doing here, Freddie?" she asked seriously.
What was he doing here? Freddie honestly couldn't think of a good enough reason. It was like one of those cartoons where one of the characters follows the aroma of a delicious meal or the scent of an intoxicating perfume, floating about comically in mid-air, a goofy expression on their face all the while. But it wasn't the smell of food or perfume this time, mostly just the idea of Carly being a few feet away in the building complex and Freddie desperately wanting to see her that led him along on his merry way.
He still couldn't explain it to himself, why he was feeling the way he had the past few days. The accident on the stairwell in the Shay's apartment had made things unnecessarily murky. To begin with, there was the head injury that had made Freddie nauseous and dozy on most days. It had been quite a feat to evade his mother this evening, who had literally been his shadow all week long since his second trip to the hospital in the space of a year.
She had been in his bedroom non-stop: fluffing his pillows, changing the bandages of his shallow cuts and brushing his hair back each time so she could make sure the cut on the back of his head wouldn't bleed again; feeding him bowls of mashed up fruit and vegetables for sustenance; supervising his showers and baths and assisting when it was mostly unnecessary. Freddie imagined that his mother got some kind of morbid pleasure out of the whole ordeal. But mostly, he knew she was just immensely worried about him, so he didn't give her too much grief over it. He hated the fact that he caused her heart to stand still for the second time in over a year, thinking that he'd met with some terrible fate.
According to Dr. Palmer, there was no permanent cerebral damage, which was a great relief to Freddie. The headaches had been excruciating at times, making it difficult for him to sleep on certain nights, making him befuddled and disconcerted for the better part of the day. And the nausea had made eating and keeping food down almost an impossibility. But that hadn't been the worst part for Freddie. The hardest part so far had been Carly withdrawing abruptly from him. He was so used to them spending so much time together, between school and iCarly, so used to her presence in his life that he'd almost taken it for granted, having easy access to her friendship. But the past few days had left him wanting more, more than past days spent of watching Carly through his peep-hole or following her around aimlessly, more than fleeting hugs and stolen kisses once upon a time.
What had changed so drastically between them?
"Uh, I don't know, really." Freddie admitted sheepishly while running a nervous hand through his hair.
That in itself was the truth, since he couldn't find the right words to verbalise exactly what he really wanted to say, not just yet anyway. It was even harder to concentrate with the way Carly looked in her long-sleeved off-the-shoulder black shirt which clung to her skin, exposing a sliver of her shoulder which literally gleamed under the glare of street lamps in close proximity. And then there was her jeans which hugged every curve of her body and her waistline in an unfair way which drew Freddie's attention more than once. His eyes kept reverting back to the way that Carly kept absent-mindedly touching tendrils of her wet dark brown hair, twirling strands around her index finger. The impulsive desire to touch Carly caused Freddie's hands to tremble at his sides and his pulse to quicken while they stood together under the silvery moonlight.
"Won't your Mom be mad at you sneaking out?" Carly questioned in somewhat of a sardonic tone.
"Probably. But I think I'll risk her impending wrath just this once. I wanted to see you, Carly." Freddie answered simply.
"Are you ok?" he asked abruptly, taking Carly by surprise.
"Uh yeah, I guess I'm fine – what do you mean?" Carly questioned all in one single breath.
"Are you ok, Freddie?" Carly asked hesitantly.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Freddie answered automatically.
"No, you're not, Freddie," Carly retorted impatiently, which surprised Freddie.
He furrowed an eyebrow in confusion, causing Carly's cheek to flush with embarrassment.
"It's just that…you suffered from a severe concussion, because you hit your head against my sofa. You could've been badly hurt. Don't play it down for my sake, Freddie." Carly implored vehemently.
Freddie grimaced disconcertedly while he struggled to look Carly directly in the eye, his hands thrust deep in his pants pockets.
"Ok, you're right. It was pretty bad and my Mom freaked out…a lot. But I'm really ok, Carly. It's definitely not as bad as getting hit by a taco truck." He murmured earnestly.
"Does your Mom hate me now?" Carly questioned in a resigned manner.
"Of course. But she'll get over it," Freddie responded smoothly, causing Carly to smile wryly.
"Are you sure you're really ok, Freddie?"
"As sure as Sam Puckett loves assorted meats."
"Promise?" Carly asked in a small voice.
"Promise," Freddie replied with a reassuring smile on his face.
"If you don't believe me, take a closer look," he suggested with his signature smirk in place once again.
Carly frowned in confusion, causing Freddie to chuckle lightly. Before Carly could stop him, Freddie had taken her hand in his and moved it towards the lone cut on his forehead, which had already healed into a faint brown line as thin as a strand of hair with only the faintest traces of pink surrounding it.
"See? It's just a little scar now. I'll probably always have the one on the back of my head, but at least my hair will hide it. But this one in the front will be gone in another week or two," Freddie declared evenly.
While Freddie spoke, Carly found herself absent-mindedly tracing the curve of the tiny scar with her index finger. The scar itself felt scratchy, but the surrounding skin on Freddie's forehead was soft and smooth, much like the rest of his face. Carly found it hard to believe that she was the cause of that little tiny scar on Freddie's body.
Freddie's slight intake of breath ghosted over Carly's hand, sending a cold shiver down her spine and bringing her abruptly back to Earth from her abstract thoughts. She drew back her hand as if she had been burned and hooked her fingers hurriedly through the loops in her jeans. The action hadn't gone unnoticed by Freddie, who looked bewildered and a little hurt by her not-so-subtle rebuff.
"Why have you been avoiding me lately, Carly?" Freddie demanded more seriously, finally voicing some of his insecurities.
"What? That's just – I haven't been avoiding you, Freddie." Carly mumbled self-consciously, digging her hands deeper into her jeans pockets while staring pointedly at the ground and not meeting Freddie's penetrating stare.
"Are you mad at me?" Freddie pressed in a painstaking tone.
Carly lifted up her eyes to stare at Freddie in confusion, her own eyes crinkling in sympathy at the look of remorse on his face.
"What? No, of course not. Why would I be mad at you, Freddie?" Carly asked in concern, not knowing where Freddie was going with his interrogation.
Freddie shrugged before answering, a deep sigh escaping from his chest as his shoulders sagged a little.
"I don't know. I guess I just thought with the accident and Sam…I was fighting with her beforehand, that's why she pushed me down the stairs. I get it if you blame me for what happened." Freddie clarified reluctantly.
Carly's eyes widened to the size of saucers at this, her heart pounding harder in her chest as her current emotions shifted altogether.
"You think I blame you for what happened? Freddie, that's crazy! If anyone's to blame, it's me! This is my fault!" Carly exploded furiously, taking Freddie completely by surprise.
"How is this your fault, Carly? You weren't even involved in the fight," Freddie reminded seriously.
"I know, but I just…I didn't mean for any of this to happen, I'm just so…" Carly stammered, finding it difficult to say what she was really thinking and feeling.
Carly was becoming increasingly frustrated with herself and her incoherent rambling, angry tears forming in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. Freddie's eyes widened in concern, stepping instinctively closer to Carly while she tried to keep her composure, her head bowed.
"Carly," Freddie murmured tentatively, reaching out towards her.
Carly willed herself not to think of how enthralling Freddie's sounded in close proximity. She could feel a certain panic rising up inside of her, something she had tried to avoid thinking about all day, ever since Freddie had held her in his arms on the stairwell at Ridgeway to stop her from falling. She had felt so safe in his embrace. But with that very comfort and warmth came a sudden feeling of scorching intensity. The burn was back and it was slowly stealing along the edges of her face with pulsing alacrity. Where was it coming from?
Freddie's fingers had been resting on Carly's chin while she stared back at the ground. But when she moved her head upwards abruptly to find the source of the burn, his fingers slipped out of place and fell onto her curvy lips instead. Carly stifled the gasp threatening to erupt from her throat at Freddie's gentle touch. Freddie, however, didn't move a muscle, his fingers still tracing a thin line across Carly's lips, his other hand still resting on her arm. Carly's mind returned to what had broken her thought processes in the first place, reverting back to that incessant burning.
Carly couldn't remember when she had decided to rest her hands against Freddie's chest, a feeling of dejavu creeping over her. But now that she was made aware of it, she could feel the vibrations of Freddie's heart expanding and contracting in his chest with each loud thump. His heart rate was speeding up the longer she touched him.
With increasing alarm, Carly realised with sudden trepidation that it was Freddie's touch causing a silent flame to ignite deep inside of her. Only now, the burn was creeping along her skin, overwhelming her senses with his familiar scent of Axe deodorant and fabric softener, the touch of his hands, the look in his eye.
Neither of them was sure who leant in first. But from the get-go, it was a bewildering crashing and mashing of limbs, bodies and lips pressed together in the overture of heated fervour. Freddie's grip on Carly's body was so tight, it was almost suffocating, holding her in place while his fingers raced across the exposed skin on her shoulder blade. She emitted a muffled gasp at the feel of his mouth moving with hers, his tongue stroking at the contours of her lips, painting a line of fire in their wake. And as much as she wanted to quell the sudden flame, Carly only aided in stoking it further by compelling her body closer to Freddie's till there was no more room left between them, her hands in his hair and her eyes closed while peppering his lips with soft kisses, hard kisses, desperate kisses, their mouths in the shape of a 'V' as they met in mid-air, joined, then parted and moved together seamlessly.
And much like her movement on the stairwell, Carly ended up disengaging hers and Freddie's lurid embrace by spontaneously shoving at his chest, much like she had done when she had pushed Sam into Spencer's sculpture. They broke apart, gasping and panting loudly for air. Carly stared at Freddie in wonder while touching her lips with her finger tips, as if they had been stung. Freddie on the other hand, looked positively dazed and hurt by Carly's sudden rejection.
"I can't do this, I'm sorry." Carly mumbled in horror, her hand running precariously through her damp hair as she spoke.
"Carly, it's ok-"
"No, it's not ok, Freddie! Nothing's ever gonna be ok again!" Carly fumed, angry tears spilling down her cheeks which she wiped away at hastily.
"I was afraid this would happen," she whispered bleakly a second later.
"Afraid? What are you talking about, Carly? What's going on?" Freddie demanded in bewilderment, confused by Carly's unusual change in emotion.
"This can't be happening, I don't want this," Carly mumbled in a frenzied tone, more to herself than Freddie.
Freddie shook his head resolutely and moved to Carly, taking her hand in his as he tried to engage her.
"Look, Carly. I don't know what's going on or what's been going on between us for the past few days. But I came here tonight because I needed to see you. I can't explain any of this, but I have to be near you somehow, that's all I know. I want this," he declared earnestly, using his thumb to caress the back of Carly's hand in a soothing manner.
"No you don't, Freddie, just trust me when I say that to you. I don't want this, not like this. This thing between us is like a drug; it's a disease that could eventually tear us apart. You and I, we've always been close, the best of friends. But then we bonded and now everything's changed…"
"Just stop right there, Carly. I think I know what you're going to say next and I'm not sure that I wanna hear it again." Freddie interjected in a curt tone.
Carly stopped short in the middle of her narrative and looked up at Freddie. She was astounded by the sudden look of severity on his face while he looked back at her.
"What do you mean?" she asked in bewilderment.
"I really don't need to hear that same song and dance about how much you care about me, but how we can only ever be friends because we share this incredibly 'special bond' that no one else has. You can't keep doing this to me, Carly: getting my hopes up just to trash them every time. I can't keep doing this, you're just making this harder than what it has to be," Freddie fumed exasperatedly, the pain evident in his tone.
"That's not what I intended, Freddie," Carly stammered painstakingly, feeling a new onslaught of tears ensuing in the next few seconds.
"It never is with you, Carly. It just seems to happen with you, especially when I'm involved. So I'll make this really simple for you," Freddie concluded jadedly.
Then he swept past Carly and began climbing briskly down the metal ladder of the fire escape till his head disappeared completely from view. Carly watched him go, her heart deflating rapidly at his unexpectedly harsh words. Freddie had never looked at her like that before, and it hurt more than what she could vocalise into words. Clumps of salty tears began falling from her eyes while her shoulders shook with repressed dejection.
Michael had gotten it completely wrong.
There was no connection whatsoever.
Carly and Freddie hadn't bonded at all.
Because Carly had never felt more alone than in this particular moment.
Author's Note: Ok, less of a cliffhanger in this chapter. More like a mean note to end Creddie on...for now ;) Feel free to pelt me with rotten eggs, I deserve it. Just not at the hair, it's my pride and joy. Some of you may have noticed that I changed the genre on this story from 'Mystery/Supernatural' to 'Supernatural/Romance'. Based on this particular chapter, I thought it was best to keep it real. Congrats to sockstar for correctly guessing who the intruder in Carly's bedroom (or fire escape) was - here's $500. Go buy yourself something pretty :) And for baronvonmilo's audio pleasure, I had two songs in mind while writing this chapter:
1) "Heartbeat" by Enrique Iglesias ft Nicole Scherzinger
2) "Bloodstream" by Stateless (OST Vampire Diaries)
Ok, I'm off to go write chapter 7 because let's face it, it's not gonna write itself (no matter how much I'd like to just will it into existence with the power of my mind, tee hee). Cheers!