Disclaimer: The iCarly name, characters and show belong to Dan Schnieder. I own nothing.
Thanks y'all for the kind words, i had this lined up, pretty much ready to go.
iGet Sick.
Halfway through the last day of the week, whilst the trio were in World History, Mr. Howard was going on about the ancient Mayans and their apparently important contribution to modern agriculture. Sam was, as usual, doodling on her redundant notebook. The droning of Mr. Howard was so boring, that even Freddie had trouble keeping his head up. His dark, smooth, brown eyes were struggling to stay open. As of recently, Sam and Freddie's relationship was relatively civil, Sam was cutting back on the outbursts against him, understanding that it hurt her as much as she'd hurt him. Relieved of this, Freddie started to get a whole lot more comfortable around her, they could be alone together with no awkward moments, just the regular, playful 'you're a nub!' banter from Sam. Neither of them admitted to their true, tormenting emotions yet, but their rapport was almost completely restored. However, sitting idly in her seat, Carly wasn't looking too well. Her normal pale complexion was worsened, with an abnormal flop sweat developing quickly. It seemed that she had grown ill, with a case of the flu. Everyone around her was just too bored out of their minds to notice. That all changed when an abrupt retching noise forced its way out of Carly's mouth. Before she could hold it back, Carly threw up all over her desk.
"Damn Carls! When you told me Howard's lectures make you sick, I didn't think you'd mean this!" jested Sam, sending out snorts of contained sniggers around the classroom.
"Puckett! Stop that!" Mr. Howard instantly remarked. "Can someone take her to the nurse? You know what? Puckett, Benson, you two deal with your nauseated friend! Alan! Call the janitor!"
Both of them tried to contain their delight as Sam scooped up her bag with her stuff and Freddie wrapped her limp, sickly arm around his neck.
"…uuuughhh." Carly managed to groan, as Freddie dragged her out of the class-room, Sam trailing behind him.
"Carls, I know you didn't mean it, but man, do I owe you one! World History is jank!"
"I hate to say it Sam, but I actually agree with you." said Freddie, chuckling.
Something tugged at Sam's heart when he chuckled. It was low, smooth, and almost…manly. Tiny sparks flew in her mind, sparks of anger, sparks of love & attraction all suppressed before the conflicting emotions ruined the steady state of mind she was keeping around Freddie.
The nurse finished her examinations, and concluded that she should be sent home to be taken care of immediately.
"All she needs is water, to be well fed and some TLC and she'll be back on her feet." declared Nurse Adler. "Is there someone to pick her up?"
Seeing as Spencer was visiting Grandpa Shay, and Freddie's crazy Mom was out of town on an anti-biotics convention, Carly had no one to take care of her.
"Uh, see… Nurse Adler, the thing is…"
Sam gave a large sigh, and finished what he was meant to say.
"Carly's brother's out of town and Freddie's mom is too."
"Yeah. That. What Sam said."
A stern expression masked the Nurse's face.
"Alright, then I guess I have no choice but to send her home under your care. I'm sure two 17 year olds should equate to an adult guardian."
A cracking, sick murmur came from Carly's mouth.
"N-n-no! I c-can take care, o-of mys-" managed Carly, before she snatched the nearby bucket and threw up. Everyone in the room knew that that wasn't true.
"mmm. Yeah, looks like we're going to have to drive her home." Freddie admitted.
"Dibs on driving!" Sam yelled, as she dived into Carly's bag and pulled out her car keys.
"FREDFACE! I NEED ANOTHER BOTTLE OF WATER, AND BRING UP A SANDWICH AS WELL!" screamed Sam from Carly's bedroom.
"ALL RIGHT!" he yelled back.
It was odd that he was so compliant with her, it must've been because they needed to do their best to take care of Carly. Nevertheless, he carefully carved a few slices of ham that had just a slight streak of fat, smeared them with some mustard and put them between two slices of bread, just how Sam likes it. Just as he was about to ascend up the stair case, he raced back into the kitchen to grab the 50oz bottle of water for Carly.
"FREDWARD! WHERE'S THAT SANDWICH!" Sam yelled.
"IT'S COMING!" he cried out in reply, taking the stairs two at a time.
Now, as Freddie walked in the room, the first thing he saw wasn't the large flatscreen on Carly's dresser, or the coffee table surrounded by water. It was Sam. Her shining golden locks were pulled back in a pony-tail, leaning over Carly, whose eyes were fluttering, accompanied by her many frail groans. In comparison to the pale, pallid complexion of Carly, Sam's plump face almost glowed. Freddie didn't stop there, his eyes were drawn to the Penny Tee she was wearing, that read "Purple Jerk". She filled it out well, the wonders of puberty were working well for Sam, giving her a curvy body that Freddie enjoyed.
"Benson! Took you long enough! Don't just stand there! Hand me the water and the sandwich you nub!" she exclaimed.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry." shaking his head out of the stupor, he strode over to Sam, handing her the bottle of water for Carly, and then stood back, still holding the plate with the sandwich. Again, he let himself get caught in admiring her. The scent of fried chicken and sugar seemed to float along from Sam's hair, to Freddie's nose. That's all he could smell, and if it were possible, all that he ever wanted to inhale for the rest of his natural life. It didn't go unnoticed though, nor did it go unappreciated. Had Carly been fully aware of her surroundings, she would've seen the flattered smile that Sam hid carefully from Freddie. Even though she found it kind of sweet that he was idly staring at her, she still had to maintain their rapport.
"Does it have ham in it?" she stated, throwing him out of his dreamland, shaking his head and blinking suddenly a few times.
"huh?" squeaked Freddie, he cleared his voice with a low cough before he continued. "I mean, huh? Oh, yeah."
"With the teensiest bit of fat?"
"Yeparooni."
"Covered in mustard?"
"uh-huh."
Secretly, her smile widened, obviously impressed that he still remembered her favourite sandwich. Flashes of all the times she hurt Freddie unnecessarily played in her head, bringing back a myriad of clashing emotions. She'd done some horrible things to him, but he stayed, generally polite and civil. Taking all of her flaws, and accepting them. Hell, at one point he even loved her for those flaws. Which was what tore her apart, letting the love that Freddie had for her, go. All the gates Sam built in her mind to keep back the corrupting thoughts seemed to creak open at the slightest sign of her vulnerability. Daring not to let Freddie see her in a moment of weakness, Sam shot up and grabbed the sandwich, shoved past Freddie, and ran straight out of Carly's bedroom. Physically, it didn't hurt much, but seeing her golden locks trail behind her as she walked out, it cut him deep. Leaving him alone with a sick Carly, and the bright lights of a cold Seattle night streaming through the bedroom window. Freddie surrendered and took the seat where Sam just stormed out from, burying his face in his hands. It was getting back to the point where he couldn't take it. Back to when he was sulking in the blue bean-bag chair.
"F-Freddie?" croaked a nearby voice. Heaving his head out of the darkness of his hands, he saw that Carly had woken. All around her, black strands of hair sprawled out, lying lifeless on her numerous pillows. Signs of her recovery were showing, it was in the faint smile that she cracked at him.
"Where d-did Sam go?" she whispered, still in a daze.
Freddie's head bowed down, wishing that he knew the answer.
"I don't know. She just got up and left." he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Well... What are you still doing here? Shouldn't you go after her?" Carly said weakly.
"Carly, she just got up and left! How am I meant to find her? She could be anywhere"
"No, she'll be in the studio. Sam wouldn't walk out on you, and leave you alone with me."
"She just di-"
"Just shut-up and go get her." she said hoarsely, mustering enough of her strength to motion towards the door. "Trust me, She's there."
Not for the first time, Carly was right. Alone in the loft studio, engulfed by the blue bean bag chair, was Sam. Anyone that walked in on her now, would see that she was huddled, hugging her knees to her chest, in an upright fetal position. Which was exactly how Freddie found her. Quietly, he stepped into the studio, and with great caution, he approached her, like she was a lioness who would pounce at one wrong move.
"Sam?" he uttered.
He was greeted with a loud groan, followed by,
"What, Benson?"
And like that, he was lost. Freddie came up here only with the intention of finding Sam, he didn't expect that he'd see her like this. He didn't expect to feel a pit in his stomach when he saw her hurting. But he did. It was the first time he'd seen her like this after he and Carly had come to rescue her from Troubled Waters Mental Institution. A kiss fixed it then. But would it fix it now? Part of him said it wouldn't. It would just cause Sam to fix his face with her two favourite tools, her fists. Freddie was certain, from the way the she had been acting out towards him a couple weeks back that she wanted nothing to do with him, romantically at least.
"Spit it out!" Sam impatiently yelled, rising to her feet.
Avoiding what's actually been running though his head, he asked,
"Are you going to stay in Carly's room to look after her? Tonight? Y'know, just incase she needs anything?" he managed to say, pulling out his PearPhone nervously.
Sam groaned, turning his back to him. She couldn't deal with looking at that cute face of his, there'd be too much inner conflict.
"Ugh, I don't know. You decide."
"Fine. If you're going to be like that, then I'll sleep in Spencer's room, and you look after Carly. We'll switch every, I don't know… 2 hours?"
"Fine by me, dork."
"Alright. I'll see you later then." he said, walking to the elevator and pushing the button.
There was a loud and obvious 'ding' as the elevator reached the third floor, but before he got on it, he turned back to face her.
"Hey, Sam. You're sure you don't need to ta-"
"Look, Benson, if I wanted to talk, I'd say so. You don't control me. Kapeesh?" exclaimed Sam, with an almost murderous undertone.
"All right, all right." holding his hands up in a surrender. "You know where to find me Sam. I'm not too far away." he said, finally stepping onto the elevator.
Walking into Spencer's room, Freddie took a glance at the fuzzy, four faced clock that hovered above Spencer's bed. 10:29pm. Given that he already had a lack of shoes, Freddie just dived straight into bed, pulling some covers up and over his body. Blankets welcomed him, warm and snug. All perfect for sleeping. Yet… sleep didn't come easy to him. It had just started to rain outside, and it pounded relentlessly against the windows. To top it off, the girl that he's currently more than sweet on is upstairs, instead of next to him, in this bed. All he can think about, all he has been thinking about, was the scent of friend chicken and sugar that floated along with her. How she looked cutest when she had her shining blonde curls back in a ponytail. The way her eyes shone when she saw a plate of bacon. Or ribs. Or ham, or any meat really. It was the same look she gave him when they had that brief, but wonderful stint as a couple. His mind drifted to the first kiss they had, and then to the kiss that Sam planted on his lips at the lock-in. Then, suddenly, he was back in the elevator.
"it's like, after years of being at each others throats… when you kissed me, that night at school. It was pretty… intense."
The meaning didn't fade, he knew that. If Sam were to walk through that door, and kiss him at that moment, he would still say that it would be as intense as the kiss at the lock-in. Problem is, would she do it? The more he thought about it, feelings like that don't leave a person as easily as it seemed to leave Sam. Maybe it was possible, possible that Samantha Puckett still had something for him. Freddie shut his eyes. At least if he were to fall asleep, he'd be falling asleep dreaming of golden blonde curls, an amazing smile, and the stubborn personality of Sam.
R&R guys, keep the stuff coming. :D