Author's Note: Hey, remember when I said in the description this was going to be a Sam-centric fic? Well, when the hell did it become a Freddie-centric fic? haha

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Eight: Brought to Light

Freddie slowly opened the door to his apartment and peered inside before stepping in.

"I found this, too." Sam said as soon as Freddie entered. She held up another envelope with the words "PAST DUE" printed on the front. "You didn't pay our rent either?"

Freddie grabbed the mail from Sam's hand and threw it to the side. "Sam, I don't want you to worry about stuff like this. I'm handling it."

Sam took a step away from Freddie and shook her head, "No, Freddie. If you were handling this, the bills would be paid. If you were handling this, we wouldn't be behind on our rent. If you were handling this, we would have money!"

Freddie tried to speak back but no words came out. What Sam had said was the truth and nothing but the truth. "What do you want me to say, Sam?"

Sam thought for a second. The number one question on her mind rolled off her tongue, "Where did all the money go?"

"I still have it. I just haven't paid yet."

"Why?"

"I can't give you that answer yet, Sam. I just... I just need you to trust me right now."

"Freddie, I've been trusting you. My trust and patience are both running out."

Freddie was silent for a moment.

Sam just shook her head once more, tears forming in her eyes. "Freddie, I don't know what's going on anymore," she started. "You're never home, you claim you're working but we don't have money and you aren't paying the bills- Have you even been to your classes?"

Freddie had totally forgotten about school this entire time. He was so focused on reuniting Sam with her mother he hadn't even realized. "I haven't. I sort of, forgot about school."

"Freddie Benson? Forget about school? That doesn't sound like you, Freddie." Sam replied. "Tell me the truth; What have you been doing?"

"Working! I've been working, Sam. That's not a lie." Freddie defended, adamantly.

Sam escalated the argument, stepping closer to Freddie. "Then why haven't you paid the bills? The rent?"

Freddie tried to search for an answer. What reason would a man work his ass off every day and not have the money to pay for his living costs? He tried to think of a good answer but he took too long. He looked up at Sam, tears streaming down her face as she smiled bitterly.

"God, Freddie- Just tell me what you've been doing with the money because right now I'm just picturing the worst-case scenario."

"Worst-case scenario? Like what?" Freddie questioned, worried that maybe Sam was smart enough to catch onto what he was doing behind her back.

"I don't know, Freddie. First I thought you weren't really working and you were just fucking around with some friends or you threw your life away or something..."

"I didn't! I really am working."

"Yeah, you say that. So then where's the money? I keep thinking maybe you used all that money because you spent it on drugs or alcohol or something. But you don't really seem like the type that resorts to drug and alcohol abuse." Sam reasoned, half talking to herself.

"I'm not addicted to drugs or alcohol, Sam."

Sam wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked at Freddie with all seriousness. "Are you cheating on me, then?"

Freddie couldn't believe his ears. His day was filled with more and more disbelief by the minute. "God, no! I'm not cheating on you, Sam. You're my one and only- I would never cheat on you. Why would you even think that?"

Sam shrugged her shoulders, running her hands through her long blonde hair out of frustration. "I don't know- I thought maybe you'd been spending all the money on your new girlfriend or something."

Freddie tried to come up with a good enough story, but still his mind was free of good ideas. It wouldn't have mattered either way because his thought process was interrupted by a loud buzzing from his pocket. He fished out his phone and saw that the caller was unknown.

He quickly answered it.

"Hello?"

"I still want my money, Fred."

"I have it."

"Good."

"Freddie, who are you talking to?" Sam asked, trying to listen in on the conversation. Freddie took a step back, worriedly looking at Sam. He had to come up with a story. Quick.

"Um, nobody. Just someone from, uh, work."

"Heh- She's getting' suspicis' ain't she?"

Freddie groaned, looking back between the phone and Sam. "Why are you calling?"

"Never mind 'bout that bid'ness wit' breakin' up wit' my daughter. I just want my money."

"Let me know later- I have to deal with Sam." Freddie quickly said, before hanging up.

Sam scoffed. "I have to deal with Sam? Like I'm a problem?"

Freddie mentally kicked himself- Wonderful choice of words. "I didn't mean it like that, Sam. I meant-"

"No, Freddie. I think I've heard enough. I'm not an idiot. I've fully understood what's going on here."

Freddie grabbed Sam's hand out of desperation and pulled her closer to him. "Sam, please! Please believe me when I tell you I'm not cheating on you."

"Then tell me what's going on!"

Freddie swallowed a large lump in his throat. He would have to tell her sometime. Now couldn't be any worse a time. "I wasn't talking on the phone with a girl."
"So who was it? Is it someone you owe money to?"

"Sort of, I guess. Not exactly-" Freddie started slowly, trying to draw out the moment as long as possible. "I was talking to Richard."

"Richard who?"

"Your father, Richard." Freddie could see all the color leave Sam's face. The very mention of her father no doubt scared her.

Sam tried to wrap her finger around that statement but couldn't understand. "Why were you talking to my dad?"

"He called me up about two weeks ago and told me he would let you see your mom again if I gave him a thousand dollars," Freddie explained. "That's why I was working so damn much. Also, unrelated, but my boss thinks you're pregnant. It's not like I could've told him the real reason why I needed the money."

"My mom is alive? How do you know?"
"He told me."

Sam scoffed. "And you believed him? Freddie, my dad is a lying scumbag. Even hell is too good for him! My mom died and I've accepted that- You need to accept it, too, Freddie. Stop chasing after ghosts."

"Sam, admit it- You've been different ever since your mom disappeared. I love you for who you are, but I miss the girl that would always smile at the stupidest of things with me." Freddie said quietly. "I just wanted to make you happy."

Sam sighed as she looked into Freddie's caring eyes. She rose her hand to his cheek and tears once again formed in her eyes. She took her hand and slapped him across the face, filling his eyes with shock. "You idiot!" Sam's eyes were full of anger and her face was beginning to turn red. "You make me happy, Freddie! Not being reunited with my dead mom!"

"I can't give you the kind of love a mother can give, though!" Freddie said back, a hand to his slapped cheek. "You say you put the past behind you but I know you still think about her all the time and lately it's created a strain on you."

"Do you realize the situation you've put us in, Freddie? What if you gave the money to him and he was lying the whole time? The only thing that would've changed is we wouldn't have a home."

Freddie was a little offended. He had at least the decency and smarts to have a back-up plan. "I would've worked- Gotten a loan- Something! I'm not an idiot, Sam."
"You sure seem like one to me."

"Well, ex-cuse me! At least I'm smart enough that I got an actual job instead of just painting depressing pictures and selling them to hippies for chump change!"

Sam's eyes widened and she saw Freddie's do the same as soon as he finished what he was saying. A sort of chuckle-slash-sob escaped her lips.

"Sam, I didn't mean that- What I meant was-"

"No, I get it, Freddie!" Sam interrupted. She pushed Freddie to the side to get to the front door. "You think I'm just some idiot blonde with no smarts. You think you're smarter than everyone else, especially me, don't you?"
Freddie shook his head. "No, Sam- I don't think that-"
Sam ignored Freddie. The only thing she could hear were the echoes of his hurtful words. "Well, screw you, Freddie. I... I hate you!" she shouted, slamming the door shut and running down the hall.

"Sam!" Freddie chased after her, "Where are you going, Sam?"

"Home!" she yelled back, from the distance. Freddie stopped in his tracks and decided she needed to be alone. It was better.

Sam ran out of the apartment complex and down the street. She continued running until she got to the main intersection and saw the bus pulling up to the bus stop. She quickly got in, fished three dollars from her pocket and gave it to the driver. In less than an hour, she would be home.