Hello all, I know I said I would be on hiatus, but I was startled by inspiration.

Disclaimer: I don't not own iCarly, The Other Boleyn Girl, Death Note, or any of the movies described below. They all belong to their rightful owners.

Warning: Spoilers! for all those who haven't seen "The Other Boleyn Girl" the movie. It rocks, I suggest seeing it!

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

Chapter Seven:

The Shit Has Hit the Fan

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Sam's cellphone went off with a text message. She picked up the silver Virgin Mobile flip-phone, flicking the lamp next to her on and opening the lid to see she had gotten a message from a number that she could have sworn she recognized.

A bloodcurdling scream rang through the night.

"Let's get back together. :)"

"Love, Jonah."

--

The Author

Night Five.

By the time Samantha got the call from her parents that Freddie would have to stay the night, she had already returned home from school and was staring blankly out the window.

"Lock the doors and windows," They urged, "that boy from the bus may try and come after you." She heard her mother whimper. "Oh, Johnathon, I don't think we should leave Sam there all by herself. What if-?" Her father interrupted, "-Alice, stop worrying so much. Freddie is there to protect her, they have all the emergency contact numbers, Uncle Robert is right down the street, and Rodney-" Sam flinched. "-and his parents are a few feet away."

Alice sighed, "Alright, if you say so. Sammy, keep yourself safe. Stay close to Freddie."

She heard her father take the phone, "But not too close."

"Johnathon! Freddie is a responsible young man,"

"I mostly meant Sam."

"Oh. Anyway, please be careful, sweetheart! Don't leave the house, alright? Freddie's mother should be calling him any minute now to tell him about the plans. Maybe you and Freddie can watch a movie!"

"Yeah, thanks mom. I love you. Have fun." Her voice seemed almost dead to her, but her parents did not take notice, thinking she was still just annoyed at being the "baby" part of "babysitter".

"We love you, too, darling! Dinner's in the fridge, and your father and I will be back tomorrow afternoon."

Sam nodded once, inwardly wondering how it was possible for Freddie's mother to have allowed him to stay with her for an entire school day. She quirked an eyebrow at her own thoughts, tracing the outline of her face that was reflected in the rain-streaked window with her finger.

"Bye, sweetie."

"Bye, mom."

And she hung up.

Two minutes and nineteen seconds later (yes, she counted), Freddie's mobile phone rung. Or, more like talked. It was his mother's voice, repeating the same words over and over again.

"Wash your underwear, don't touch strange things, don't touch pointy things, don't go towards the white light, if you faint don't eat bologna, apply cloud block every sixteen minutes and apply in medium-sized circles, MEDIUM-SIZED! Don't eat chap stick, don't stick your hand down the toile-" It was interuppted by Freddie answering it, having returned from the kitchen where he was heating up dinner for the two of them.

Sam snorted as he hit the "talk" button, and he momentarily glared at her, huffing in embarrassment.

"Yes, mother?" He asked as he answered, causing Sam to snicker even louder. He ignored her.

"Tomorrow afternoon?" Freddie shot a glance at Sam, and she shrugged. He sighed, "Yeah, it's not like I had anything else planned." Sam chortled, trying to pass her giggles off as coughs. She coughed "nerd" loudly and Freddie tapped his foot, almost tempted to stomp it on the ground like an annoyed little girl.

"Yes, mother. I understand. I love you, too. Yes, mother. Yes...yes...no..." She heard ear-shattering screech on the other side of the line. Freddie winced. "Alright, mom! I'll put on the stupid cloud block! Yes, yes, I know. Goodbye." She heard his mother continue to speak, but he clicked the phone off.

Sam merely blinked at him, oblivious to the fact that he still owned cloud block, and scrunched her nose, accusatory. "Wait, so why are you allowed to stay here until tomorrow afternoon anyway? What about school?"

"There's a randomly-scheduled teacher's conference tomorrow."

Sam nodded, seemingly lost in thought as she watched Freddie walk into the kitchen. He carefully carried two plates of re-heated mac and cheese and handed one to the menstruating carb-craver in front of him.

Her blue eyes twinkled at the sight of food, "I love you, you know that?" She mumbled, hunched over the starch-enhanced noodles.

Freddie's heart thudded in his chest, and he smiled.

"Yeah, I know."

--

By eight, they were spread out on the couch, opposite each other, Sam's frozen legs tangled with Freddie's. He hissed, "Sam. You're legs are like ice."

"I know, what do you expect? I'm wearing shorts and it's 60-something degrees in this ice box you call a house."

"Then put on some pants or something if you're so cold!"

Sam rolled her eyes, "Fine." And got up, running to her room. She returned, moments later, clad in old, dark grey sweatpants with a blue paint stain on the right leg. Freddie eyed it.

"Stage crew in sixth grade?" He wondered out loud. Sam nodded and joined him on the couch where she had just been.

"So, what movie will we have the pleasure of watching today?" The blonde tapped her chin as she said this.

Freddie picked up the remote, scanning through the movies that were listed on the TiVo.

"Atonement, Serendipity, How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days, Something's Gotta Give, When Harry Met Sally, Never Been Kissed, Titanic..." Freddie chuckled, "Never took you as a 'chick-flick' kinda girl..."

Sam glared at him, "Shut up."

He continued to ponder over movies, "Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanimo Bay?"

"Seen it."

"Sweeney Todd?"

"Seen it."

"Juno?"

"Seen it."

"...Death Note Live-Action?"

Sam jumped from her place, covering Freddie's eyes. He stared into her palm, flabbergasted.

"You will tell no one that I like japanese stuff. Okay? I've got a reputation to hold up."

Freddie nodded once, and Sam returned to her seat, crossing her arms as if the entire scenario had been completely normal. He shook it off, continuing to look through the list.

"The Other Boleyn Girl-"

"LET'S WATCH IT!"

--

By the time an hour and a half had passed, Sam had already laughed hysterically, cried twice, sobbed into Freddie's shirt, hidden her face from the screen out of fright, and polished off her plate of macaroni.

"Wow, Sam," he mumbled into her ear, awkwardly patting her back to soothe her tears, "I've never seen you so emotional before."

This statement earned him a swift punch in the stomach. He sucked in the last bit of air that he had, tears springing in eyes at the unexpected blow.

"Ow," he enunciated roughly, clutching his stomach. "That was so uncalled for!" He squeaked.

Sam rolled her eyes. "You should've seen it coming."

--

At ten, Sam stood up and stretched, untangling herself from the peacefully sleeping Freddie. She crawled up the stairs to get ready for bed, not noticing the dark, soulless eyes that watched her from behind a wooden panel on the stairway.

She fell asleep, placing her cell phone in it's usual place, next to her alarm clock (which was thankfully switched off).

When her digital clock struck three in the morning, her cell phone jingled with an incoming text. She blindly swiped a hand across the wood of her desk, finding the switch to her lamp and flicking it on, all the while opening the lid to her phone and sitting up, propped up with a pillow, to see who the text was from.

The first thing she noticed was the number. It was familiar, as if she had commited herself or something important to it.

The second thing she noticed, with the highest grade of irritation, was that she was submerged in her own blood. Blood that she did not want to move from because damn it, she didn't know how she was going to escape from the confines of her own bed in dripping, red short-shorts that no longer held a hint of the green color that they once were. Sam grimaced.

The third was movement on the covers of her bed. The movement was faint, practically a figment of imagination, until she saw it again.

It was swift and quick, but it was there. Sam sealed her mouth shut so she could come up with an idea of how to escape her blood bath, but it eventually popped open. She breathed in as much air as she could, and let it out.

As a scream.

An ear-shattering, blood-curdling scream of absolute dread and horror.

"SPIDER!"

--

Oh yus. The author is terrified of spiders. xD