iClean Up After Sam

Carly broke into a sprint down the hall, crossing the living room in stride, and was halfway up the stairs before she realized Sam hadn't followed her. She felt herself flush. She didn't know if it was due to anger, embarrassment, frustration, or some other emotion she couldn't quite place, but she knew what needed to be done, regardless of how awkward or uncomfortable it might be in the interim.

"Goddamn you, Sam. You and your stupid, foolish pride…" she thought.

She reached the top of the stairs and made and immediate right turn. The door. She reached for the knob, but hesitated. She knocked softly. She could hear sobs – sobs belonging to Melanie Puckett.

"Mel? Sweety, it's Carly… Can I come in?"

Carly got no answer. She waiting what she thought was an appropriate length of time and turned the knob gently. The door opened.

Carly walked in to find the pretty blonde laying on her stomach, her face buried in her pillow. It absolutely broke Carly's heart.

"Mel, Hey… don't cry… please…" Carly begged.

Sniffles, but no answer.

"Mel, what Sam said to you… believe me, she was wrong. She's willful and rude and distant…"

Melanie finally spoke, sitting up and turning, gingerly, to face Carly.

"But you love her, don't you? You love my sister, even though she is all of those things?"

Carly paused for a long moment. This was a loaded question, if ever there was one. Yes, she loved Sam. Of course she loved Sam. Carly loved Sam with every breath she took, but that could never excuse Sam's behavior. She and Sam would be okay. Love was about saying that you were sorry, but it wasn't Carly – not just Carly – that she needed to apologize to. Sam needed to find the words to tell Melanie that she was truly, legitimately sorry for tearing open what were obviously very old wounds. She took a deep breath.

"I don't condone her behavior in the slightest, but yes, Mel… In spite of all of that, yes, I do love Sam. I don't expect you to understand… not entirely… but she and I need each other. We need… there's just something in her that fixes whatever's always been broken inside of me."

For the first time in hours, Melanie smiled, and then laughed.

"What's so funny?" Carly asked, her look a mixture of happiness and confusion.

Melanie chuckled, but immediately felt the need for clarification, as she didn't want to break two hearts tonight.

"It's just… I say the same thing about Freddie…"

Carly knew she probably did, although she sensed that it was only a half-truth. She wouldn't push the issue, but would come back to it, if ever Melanie let her.

"Carly?"

Melanie sounded like a little girl. She couldn't be brave anymore. Carly knew that, as hard as she was trying to hide it, Melanie Puckett was hurting. She was hurting badly.

"Carly?" Melanie asked again, her voice breaking, "Why does my sister hate me so much? What have I done to her to deserve this?"

"Mel, honey…" Carly cooed, "Your sister is… complex, but I'm sure you know that. She doesn't hate you. She just has a hard time relating to… well…" She searched to find the right words. "I think her issue is, really, that she can't reconcile the fact that you seem to be exactly the same on the outside, but that you're really as different as Night and Day. I don't think that, to Sam, makes sense. I don't think she can really wrap her head around how you can be so alike, yet so different."

Carly did the best she could to explain what she meant. Night and Day outwardly appeared as enemies, but truly had a symbiotic relationship – they each needed each other in order to survive. Carly did her best to remain calm and measured, but inside, she was frantic. She needed to fix this. It was the whole 'Twin Thing'. Whether or not Sam realized it, she needed Melanie in her life just as much as Melanie needed Sam. The way Carly saw it, they really weren't two independent people. They were really each half a person. They needed each other. They needed each other like peanut butter needed jelly. They were okay separately, but it was only when they were together that everything balanced out.

They talked. Talked and talked and talked and talked. They talked for hours. It took forever, but Carly finally had a full and complete picture of everything Sam had kept hidden from her – hidden for her own self-conscious, paranoid, Sam reasons. Melanie filled in the gaps from birth to the year 1 B.C. – Before Carly. It was then that Melanie Puckett dropped a bombshell. It was the one thing Carly Shay wasn't prepared to hear.

"Do you know why my sister calls you 'Cupcake', Carly?"

Carly didn't. She only assumed that it had always been her attempt at affection, which had grown into her own little pet name.

"Honestly? No. Are you telling me there's a story there?"

Melanie smiled. Yes, of course there was.

"You are my sister's little Cupcake, I think, because Cupcakes were the only thing that ever comforted her as a child." Melanie stopped cold. Perhaps this wasn't hers to share. What they had both suffered as children was awful enough, but for Sam to have endured it twice over, all to protect her sister, was even more horrific. Melanie didn't know if it was her place to share.

She didn't have to. Carly filled in the blanks for herself. She drew Melanie into a hug.

"Oh... My... God..."

This explained a lot. Carly knew it was completely nonsensical in retrospect, of course, but in the mind of a four or five-year-old Sam Puckett, it was easy to see the connection. It was easy to see, even if, to the now-adult Carly Shay, it seemed silly at best. It was then that all of then that all of the pieces had begun to click into place. Sam would certainly need to sit down and make peace with Melanie in time, even if the United Nations of Carly Shay forced her into it. Knowing what she knew now, she loved Sam more than ever. Her beautiful, precious Ham Lover really wasn't a Bad Girl after all – she was a total marshmallow – who needed to get hard, crusty, and well done on the outside in order to protect the sweetness inside.

Carly glanced at her phone. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning.

Knowing that she couldn't let this happen, Carly fought off sleep long enough to leave. She certainly knew that sleeping here wasn't an option. Slipping away, Carly gently ran her fingers through sleeping Melanie's hair, the way her own mother had done when she was very small, hoping that the angels would take mercy on her, allowing her a peaceful nights' sleep.

They did – for four and a half hours.

Sam Puckett woke up on the sofa the next morning, the unconscious form of Carly Shay hugging the contour of her hip. Her eyes were red and swollen as she opened them. She had cried herself to sleep.