Chapter 27: Deja Vu

Author's Note: Hahaha I love your reviews, guys. But I'm sorry to tell you, you guys have no idea what's in store ;) So just sit back and enjoy this SUPER LONG, and VERY INTENSE and QUITE DRAMATIC chapter! I know, the suspense is killing you (; Review! :D

Freddie's breath seemed to stop. All I could hear in the apartment was my own breath, and I tried to quiet it down from the awkwardness.

I stepped back from Freddie a bit, and looked at him. His eyes were wide, and expression didn't change at all. His grip on the black phone loosened so it fell on the hard, brown tiled floor. Still frozen in his shocked position, he barely seemed to notice that he dropped the phone.

I gave him a "really, Freddie? Really?" look, but he still remained unchanged. I scrambled down to pick up the thankfully unbroken phone quickly, for the receptionist was still on the phone. "Hello?" I said into the phone, unsure if the lady was still there.

"Hello? Who is this?" the lady seemed confused.

"Sam, I live with the Bensons," I groaned, not in the mood to explain myself at a time like this.

"Oh, well... hello," the lady greeted. "Well, if you don't mind, please inform Fredward that his mother was in a car accident, if he didn't get that before. She was hit by a drunk driver, who is being searched for right now. Ms. Benson will be just fine, but she has suffered from a few injuries. She can come home very soon, but she will have trouble walking and will have to take some time off of work. Visiting hours aren't over, and you may come visit. Ms. Benson will have to stay the night here, but she will return tomorrow. She has called a babysitter to watch Fredward tonight."

"A babysitter?" I yelled, as that was the only thing she said that affected me.

"Yes," she said, her tone staying the same.

I sighed. "Alright, whatever, we're coming soon. Bye, lady," I said flatly.

"Goodbye, have a nice-" I hung up before she could finish her nonsense.

"Uh, Freddork, your mom..." I said, but trailed off. I didn't know what to say. Today was absolutely not Freddie's day. He woke up puking, his mom left to get medicine he didn't need, we sat around for hours doing nothing, and he found out that his mom was in the hospital. And knowing him, he probably felt guilty that his mom got into a car crash because he was the reason she was driving, even though he didn't want her to.

"I know," he finally spoke, which made me relieved that I didn't have to explain this to him. He swallowed hard, and actually turned his head. "I heard everything she said."

"At least your mom's okay," I said with an awkward smile. "So, um... you wanna go see her?"

After a slow nod, Freddie said seriously, "Sam... it's all my fault."

What'd I tell you? "Fredweird," I sighed. "You're not the drunk driver. It's his fault, and they're looking for him right now." Freddie was about to speak, but I cut in before he did because I knew what he was going to say. "And it's not like you asked her to drive. You told her not to. It's not your fault, Frederly."

Freddie gave me a sad smile and nodded, but he didn't look convinced. Eh. I tried.

Freddie and I visited Marissa in the hospital that night, but she was asleep when we came, and the nurses said she needed rest so we just left. Freddie seemed really upset the whole time. I saw real tears in his eyes, which I hadn't seen since the night we visited his dad's grave. He had a real passion for family, one that I figured I would never understand.

We spent the night with an annoying, fat old babysitter who barely spoke any English. Therefore, I messed with her, saying big English words that I'd hear Freddie say before just to confuse her. I mostly did it because I'm Sam and that's just my nature, but I partly did it to get Freddie to laugh. All I got was a fake smile or two. He was really upset.

The next day, Marissa came home. She took a van cab, but Freddie wanted us to wait in the parking lot of Bushwell Plaza so we could help her in. The moment she stepped out of the cab, Freddie ran over to grab her hand. I slowly walked behind him, seeing him taking his mother's shivering hand. And again, I saw tears reform in his eyes.

I sighed, and inside my head I groaned, because Freddie gave me a look, and I knew that meant that I had to help too. I let Marissa put her arm around me, and I felt her shaking against me. I could tell that Freddie was shaking even more, but he seemed to be trying not to.

The taxi driver got out of his seat and took Marissa's new portable wheelchair out of the cab. We helped Marissa into the seat, and Freddie gave the taxi driver a sad thanks before the man drove away.

Freddie wheeled Marissa into the building, taking the ramp up into the place. I silently followed behind them, my hands stuffed into the pockets of my plaid hoodie. In a way, I understood why Freddie was upset. As in, I understood it, but I still thought he was crazy for thinking that way.

When we got to their apartment, Marissa sat in her wheelchair at the table, eating a small snack. I got a good look at her; she was banged up. Her face was bruised, and she had a broken left leg, a broken right arm, and a sprained left wrist. She had more various injuries now, and the doctors said that she was suffering back and neck pain. I wouldn't know, because we still hadn't spoken a word since she arrived back home.

"Would you guys like to eat with me?" Marissa's weak voice said from the table. She seemed to try to turn her head to us, but let out a small "ow" under her breath, and I realized it was because of her neck.

"Mom," Freddie whispered, sounded even weaker than her at the moment. "I would love to... but can I have a moment first?" His voice cracked during the word 'moment', and I knew that he was just about to really cry.

"Of course," Marissa said, not taking the risk of turning away. I wondered if she knew how much Freddie was hurting because of this. I wished she would just tell him, reassure him, that she was okay and it wasn't his fault.

I was surprised to realize that this may have been one of the first times I'd felt compassion and completely cared about Freddie. Sure, I thought his reasons for being sad were really stupid. But, I really hated seeing him this distraught. All I wanted was to see his smile again, to know that he was happy and his normal cheerful self. That was weird for me. I wasn't usually like that, but now I finally understood what it felt like to care this much. I truly felt for the guy.

Freddie gave me a nudge, and then motioned with his head towards our room. I realized that 'the moment' he wanted was probably a moment to talk to me. I gave him a sad smile and nodded, and we slowly walked into our room. Freddie let me walk in first, and then he shut the door after following behind me. He sat on the edge of his bed, and I sat next to him, and there was silence in the room. I heard his calm breathing, but it turned into fast-paced breath. I turned to him, and he was looking down to his knees, almost literally crying.

"Frederly..." I said softly. "Freddie... she's okay. It can only get better from here. She's healing."

"Sam..." Freddie's voice was quiet and almost high-pitched. "I can't do this... I can't live with this guilt. I'm so selfish... Everything bad that happens to my family, it's all my fault."

"What makes you say that?" I said, unsure if that came out in a mean way or gently. I was trying to be as gentle as possible, but I'm not the best at that.

Freddie looked up to me, straight into my eyes. I looked straight back into his red and wet eyes, as I noticed a couple of tears about to escape from his eyes. But as always, his eyes were so interesting to me... almost what I could call 'amazing'... Oh, shut up Sam.

"Five years ago," Freddie whispered so softly I could barely hear him. "Five years ago, I had a little stomachache. And going to buy me stupid medicine, the same one that my mom was going to get yesterday... my dad died. My mom got seriously hurt for that exact same reason." He looked at me more deeply in the eyes. "Whatever I did... I don't know why God has to punish my family for this. But it seems so big that it's so much of a coincidence. Why can't I just be in a car accident instead?"

"Freddie..." I whispered, finally understanding his point. This was almost the exact same situation he was in when his dad died. No wonder his reaction was so huge when the receptionist called. Without a thought, I wrapped an arm around him. It was awkward though, because we were still just sitting on his bed.

Freddie stood and I stood with him, and I gave him a real hug, my arms around his chest and his around or a little above my waist. He seemed to be holding me close, and he was shaking a bit. I figured he was crying.

"I don't want her to die, especially because of me," he said quietly. "I'm lucky she didn't die this time. It doesn't mean she won't next time... and I can't do this to my family. This is going to keep happening. They're better off without me."

I pulled away from him a bit, my arms still around him but just more loose. I felt like I had to comfort him, like he always did to me when I was upset. But I didn't know how. I decided to some kind of mixture between saying what I really thought, and saying what he wanted to hear. "Freddie, there's no way you're some kind of 'curse' on your family."

Freddie looked unconvinced.

"But," I said, deciding to say what he wanted to hear, "if by some weird chance this was some kind of message from God, I think it'd be over by now. It happened to both of your parents, your direct family. You don't have any brothers or sisters. Maybe it's over. Maybe it won't happen again."

Freddie took a deep breath, closing his eyes lightly, seeming to be considering it. Tears weren't falling out of his eyes anymore. "I guess that makes sense. But that doesn't necessarily mean it's true... Sam, you know I'm not going crazy, I mean I know that there isn't some weird curse in me. But I just feel like somehow this is too weird to be a coincidence. But the thing is... I love my parents so much. But they aren't the only people I love, and they aren't my only family. I have a big extended family. I even have people who feel like family to me. People who I care about so much. And what scares me the most is..." Freddie stopped talking. He slowly pulled himself away from me, and he took a slight step back.

"Is what?" I asked, trying to sound gentle, but I may have sounded just the opposite; I probably did, knowing me.

"Something in me tells me that the next person I'm going to unintentionally hurt with my stupid sickness will be you."

I was confused for a second, wondering why out of all the people he could think was next, he thought me. He thought he was somehow hurting the people the most close to him, and I guess he thought of me as someone that close to him. "Freddie..." I said softly.

Before I could go on, Freddie turned his head to the doorway. I followed where he was looking, and saw Marissa sitting her wheelchair in the doorway. She wheeled herself over. Freddie and I were already apart, not hugging anymore, which was good because she still kind of hated me and me hugging him probably wouldn't help.

"Is everything okay?" Marissa asked, looking at me, then Freddie. Probably with her motherly instincts, she could immediately tell he was crying. "Freddie, what's wrong?"

Freddie gave me a sad smile, and then walked over to his mom. "Nothing, mom. Everything's just fine." He knelt beside her and lightly kissed her bruised cheek.

Marissa winced a bit just from the light kiss, but she smiled afterwards, probably because she figured everything was okay. She wheeled herself in, sitting beside Freddie's bed. "Freddie, I promise I will be just fine. The Bensons can get through anything."

Freddie smiled the most fake grin I'd ever seen on him. I knew he hated seeing his mom hurt. "Let's just hang out here for a while. I'll go get us some drinks." He walked out the bedroom door towards the kitchen. I sat on the edge of his bed.

Marissa gave him a sad smile, but after she left, she eyed me angrily because she couldn't turn her head very much without pain. "What happened to my Freddie?" she asked angrily.

"What are you talking about?" I snapped, in full defense mode already. If she was going to try to blame me for something, I'd fight back; I don't care how injured she was.

Marissa just frowned sadly. "I've just... I haven't seen him look this sad in a long time."

I took a deep breath, and I was about to tell her how Freddie thought it was his fault, how he thought that he was selfish because he was hurting his family with his sickness. But I knew that if I told her that, she'd freak out in the way she always did. And I decided if anyone would tell her, it would have to be Freddie. So, I lied through my teeth, "I honestly don't know."

There was complete silence in the room for a few minutes, which gave me a moment to think about Freddie. He was just making himself hurt. This was a coincidence, and it was eating him up inside. After thinking about him for a while, I realized that he'd been out of the room a while just to be getting us drinks. Without a word to Marissa, I stood up from Freddie's bed into the kitchen. I didn't see Freddie anywhere.

Before I would start freaking out and frantically looked around, I slowly stepped around the apartment, trying to be silent so Marissa wouldn't notice anything fishy. Everything looked the same; untouched. Then it caught my eye: the sticky note on the fridge.

I quickly walked over to the note, and held my breath when I saw that it was Freddie's handwriting in red pen. There was a red pen sitting beside the fridge. I grabbed the note and read it silently:

"Dear Sam and Mom,

I'm leaving. Not forever, so please don't bother looking for me. I just need some time alone in a place where I can think because I need to get my thoughts straight. I'll be home when I get this figured out. Don't. Look. For. Me.

I'm sorry,

Freddie."

I grabbed the cold counter behind me so that I wouldn't fall down. I took a long, shaky breath.

Freddie was gone.