iCarly (c) Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon

Chapter Ten: iForge My Own Path

Sam felt a throbbing on the top of her head. She reached down to feel the tile floor, but it was gone. Instead, her hand touched the soft cushion. The material was so familiar it gave her chills.

"Sam?" The voice called again. "Sam! Are you awake?"

"Carly?" Sam spoke weakly. The blurred figure came into focus, her face right up near Sam's own. She pushed herself up, not knowing what it was she was doing. She squinted, the light flashing brightly in her eyes.

"Oh thank god!" she shouted, wrapping her arms around Sam as tightly as she could. Sam looked around. She could see where she was now. The random artifacts hanging from the wall, the TV that was playing the food channel quietly. This was Carly's apartment. The figure pulled away to indeed reveal Carly Shay, caressing her head. "Are you okay? What happened? Do you remember?"

"I uh..." Sam sat up fully running her hand through her tangled hair. "I fell down."

"You fell?" Sam looked down at her hand. Opened and closed it. Freddie, she thought. When they touched the static had shocked her and spilled his tea. "I was so worried. Freddie told me what really happened and...I felt awful about the things I said to you so I went to apologize and your mom said you were outside so I went out looking for you and...oh Sam!" She said, hugging her best friend tighter.

"Carls...jeez," Sam muttered. "It was just a little lightning." She pulled her away, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine."

"Let's never ever fight again, okay?" she said. Sam nodded as Carly went in for another hug. In all the commotion, Sam had forgotten that she and Carly had even had an argument. What was it about again? She couldn't seem to remember. It wasn't important anymore. Carly let go and examined Sam's appearance. "Aww. Look at you. You're all covered in mud. Your hair...and your feet...weren't you wearing shoes?"

"Apparently not." Sam wiggled her toes.

"You wait here and I'm going to get you a hot towel," Carly announced making her way to the kitchen. "You're probably hungry. I'll make you something. Spencer's asleep though so we have to keep it down."

"Th-that's okay," Sam said. "You don't-"

"We have jerky."

"I want jerky!"

Carly giggled girlishly at Sam's eagerness for meat. She tossed Sam the bag of jerky. It was a relief to her that everything was going to be okay. Suddenly, the door swung open.

"Carly!" the deep voice said. Sam looked down at her bag of dried meat. "I was at the Groovy Smoothie when I got your message! Is Sam here? Is she-" Sam shoved a piece of jerky in her mouth. She couldn't look at him when his eyes finally found her. "Sam!"

"Hey Fredward," she said as calmly as she could.

"Are you okay?" Freddie began, moving towards her and leaning to her level. "What happened?"

"Sam went out in the rain and got electrocuted!" Carly said, half worried, half condescendingly.

"I'm all better now!" Sam exclaimed.

"She was unconscious for twenty minutes!" Carly said.

"Well yeah but-" Sam stopped. "Twenty minutes? But...that's impossible."

"It probably felt like seconds to her," Freddie explained. "You're not hurt are you?" He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder. "I have a first aid kit if you need it."

"I don't need it, I'm fine."

"Are you sure-?"

"Yes! I'm fine! Just don't-" Her body tensed as his hand came near her, keeping her eyes married to her jerky bag. "Don't touch me."

Freddie retracted his hand. "Oh. Sorry."

Carly made her way back to the couch, putting her own hand on Freddie's shoulder. "Will you go wake up Spencer and tell him Sam's okay?"

Freddie nodded. "Yeah, sure thing." His eyes hovered on Sam for a moment before he made his way into Spencer's room.

"I'll set up the sleeping bag. Do you want it in the studio or down here? I figured since you were already down here-"

"Thanks, Carly," Sam started as she stood up. "But I think I'm just gonna go home."

Carly blinked. "Home?"

"Yeah, I should probably let me mom know I'm alive," Sam said in a joking manner. Inside, she knew that her mother in this world probably hadn't noticed she was gone. "Thanks for the jerky, though."

"At least let Spencer give you a ride back!"

"Naw," Sam shook her head. "He just woke up. I doubt he'd be very reliable."

"But it's so late. There are mean people out there."

Sam groaned, looking over towards the couch. There, lying between the pillows, was her metal baseball bat. She picked it up and swung it over her shoulder. "See. Now I have a weapon."

"But Sam..."

She looked at her honestly. "I'll text you when I get home, okay?"

Carly sighed. "At least borrow some shoes!"

Sam could hear rustling coming from the back hall where Spencer's room was. She quickly scooted out the door before Freddie could re-enter the room. She waited outside for a few seconds, holding her breath. It was official. She was back. Everything was the way it was, the way it was designed to be. She sighed, dragging the bat along with her to the elevator.

She managed to catch the bus on it's last run of the evening. The stops were many, but short. She peered out the window, watching the people pass by. She wondered what it all meant. If it was a dream, another reality, she feared she would never truly know. It was yet another secret that Sam Puckett had to keep.

Change isn't about punishment.

She remembered those words, the ones he had told her. She wasn't sure if he was right. Returning now to a broken life, that appeared more like a punishment than anything. What was the point of it all? To prove that her life could have been different? That the entire world didn't have to revolve around one tragic event linking to another?

Maybe, Freddie's voice came back as though in answer. Instead of thinking about who you're not, you should ask who you are? Sam slammed her head against the glass window.

But I don't know who I am...she thought. I thought I knew...but now I...

The bus pulled over to Sam's street before she could think of anything more. She went to pay the bus driver, who told her to just get off and not slug him with the baseball bat. Sam skidded the bat along the familiar concrete sidewalk. It scraped the bottom most likely waking up everyone in the neighborhood. Sam realized that should have stopped her, but it didn't.

She reached her house only to realize that she wasn't alone. There on the concrete steps of the house, was Freddie. Sam stopped, still and cold. What was he doing there? Freddie noticed Sam and waved, not moving from his spot on the stairs. "Hey."

"Dude...what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to make sure you got home okay."

Sam scowled, picking up her bat and walking towards him. "Carly make you follow me home?"

Freddie shook his head. "Nope. I had a little extra money so I thought I'd get you a taxi, but you were gone by the time I came back."

Sam's chest tightened. "Oh." She started to walk by him. "Well, I'm here now so...goodnight."

"Sam..." he said, warmly. "I have the meter running. In case you decide you want to go back with me."

Sam had reached the door at this point. Freddie stood, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket. "Freddie I can't-"

The door opened widely. Pam stood in the doorway, leaning on the rim. She had a chicken bone in her mouth. "Well, look who finally decided to fly back home." She lifted an eyebrow. "Where ya been?" Between her legs, the cat Frothy sprinted out past Freddie and Sam and into the lawn. It hissed, looking back at the house. "Mangy thing," Pam said under her breath.

"I was just at Carly's."

"Oh, why am I not surprised?" Pam said. "And hey look, you brought your little nerdy friend."

"H-hello Mrs. Puckett," Freddie said nervously.

"Sam," Pam began. "You gotta go in and clean that god-forsaken bathroom. There is glass everywhere from where you broke that mirror." She leaned over to Freddie. "Normally I wouldn't mind but it's like, man! What we gotta put up with, right Benson?" She gripped Sam's arm tightly. "You better be in here in two minutes or I will drag you in." She smiled at Freddie. "Goodnight!" With that, she let go of Sam and forcibly shut the door.

Sam turned back to Freddie. "I gotta go." She opened the door, but before she could walk through it, Freddie reached for the handle, slamming it shut. "Dude! What the chiz?"

"You broke a mirror?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"Did you?"

Sam groaned. "Yes! My mom wants to start a stained glass window business! Now get out!" she shouted. She reached back for the door handle and opened it, but Freddie shut it again.

"I thought we were done with this. You can't lie to me, Sam. I know when you're not telling me the truth. You may be able to fool Carly with this stuff, but you can't fool me. So tell me what's going on."

Sam inhaled in frustration. "Okay...I might have gotten angry and thrown my makeup at the mirror and it may have shattered all over the floor. But-" she leaned in closer. "She took my mascara and flung it at the wall! And...tried to paint her face with my foundation!"

Freddie looked down. "I see." There was a long silence before he spoke again. "Sam..." he looked up. Sam cast down her eyes. "Hey. Sam. Look at me for a sec." Sam forced her gaze to meet with his. His eyes were gentle, yet filled with concern. "Let me take you back to Carly's."

Sam huffed. "I don't want to go back to Carly's."

"Then..." he bit his lip. "Then you can come stay with me. Or we can go somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere you want. Just please..." He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into him closer. "Please don't go back in there."

Sam took a deep breath. She wanted to leave. She wanted to hop in that taxi and go as far away from that house as possible. Just him and her, no Carly, no parents, no walls...but she knew that couldn't happen. "If I leave now it'll just make things worse," she told him.

Freddie lifted his eyebrows, lowering his hands from her shoulders. "You could just...not come back."

Sam shook her head. "I tried that once. It didn't work."

"But-"

"Look," Sam said. "She's trying. So, the least I can do is try too. And besides you don't want me in your house. I'm a bulldozer," she said, playfully recalling the adjective Mrs. Benson had used to describe her.

Freddie laughed. "You're not a bulldozer," he said. "...All the time."

She joined in, lightly chuckling to herself. There was another pause before: "I should go."

Freddie nodded. "Okay." He started to walk down the steps, leaping over one of them so he'd land with both feet on the sidewalk. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Sam shone a half-grin. "See ya." Freddie was halfway down the sidewalk as Sam turned away from the door. "And thank you," she called back. Freddie turned around to meet her gaze. "For showin' up here. It made me feel less...rotten."

"Well," Freddie added. "People don't generally care about rotten people." Sam's heart skipped as he turned back around, walking towards the yellow taxi parked across the street. "Goodnight, Sam."

"Night Fred-" she started, but something stopped her. Freddie turned to look behind him once more, knowing she had stopped. She looked at him and grinned. "Night, Freddie."

She leaned against the doorframe, as she often did, her hair picking up in the wind. It was calmer now, the storm passed. Soon it would rain again, but for now the air only hung heavy with dark clouds. As she watched him leave, a feeling of peace and serenity came over her.

"People don't care about rotten people, huh?" she snickered. "I'll try not to read into that too much."

She picked up her baseball bat and swung it over her shoulder. This time, she was prepared. Whether it was a learned behavior, or inside her all along. It didn't matter. Sam was ready to start figuring it all out. She wasn't scared of looking at her reflection anymore. There was no longer a fear of what she might find. In fact, one might say that she was actually looking forward to it.

Thank you all for reading my story. Please feel free to comment as you wish.