Freddie's POV

In the midst of everything, I never forgot my plan. Carrying Sam bridal-style in my arms I made my way through the crowd, always having to push my way through like I had to to get into this club, which kept looking like more and more of a stupid idea in the first place. Sam remained motionless the entire time and I reached the exit and used it willingly.

The difference between inside the club and the outdoors was unimaginable. It seemed like in the instant I shut the door, it was almost completely silent, and it grew more silent as I moved slowly away from the club, until I could hear the sound of crickets chirping. The blinding lights, too, soon faded into the darkness of the night.

I still felt enraged. How could someone manipulate Sam like that? How could she let him? I never once in my life thought of Sam as a vulnerable person, but tonight changed that. I didn't know what to make of it. Sam was supposed to be the experience between the two of us, but what if something happened like back at the club? I somehow had to be able to protect her.

I looked at her body that was moving only ever so slightly with her occasional breaths. I had never actually got a good chance to look at her, and I mean really look at her, because she was always moving or punching something. Maybe that's why for that short time tonight, I was hypnotized by her beauty. She wore a heart shaped locket on her neck and I was tempted to crack it open and take a look, but I decided against it. I didn't want her to slaughter me later for it.

My eyes fell onto her bare stomach, which her shirt did not quite cover. There was not much light at all, but by the moonlight I could tell that the color was off. I moved my face closer and could see that it definitely resembled the black and blue of a bruise. My breath fell a little short. No, it couldn't be.

I slowly rotated Sam a little and looked at her back. There were at least five of those same bruises consuming her backside. I grew even tenser. It must be late, and I'm imagining these things, I kept telling myself.

Somehow I had the nerve to lift up her curls and look at the back of her neck where the final bruise laid. I was a completely frustrated zombie-like person by the time we got back to Harley. It was getting late and cold, so I decided I would attempt to make a fire with the skills I learned when I used to be in the boy scouts group that my mother forced me into.

But I couldn't leave Sam just lying there. I carefully went into her bag and removed her blanket she always slept with. I made my way over to an open space and let her lie on the ground, wrapped in her blanket.

I looked around the small area that I could without leaving Sam completely. I got lucky and found some wood in a matter of minutes and a nice opening for a fire. I panicked slightly when I remembered I didn't have the materials I needed to start a fire. I went through Sam's bag again and in one of the many pockets I ended up finding a lighter. I rejoiced silently and went to work on the fire.

After I made the fire pit, I took the lighter and lit some lint under the wood and it almost instantaneously burst into flames. "Thanks mom," I said, knowing she wouldn't hear me anyway. I went and retrieved Sam and moved her to the warm fire. I situated myself against a tree and pulled Sam close enough so that she was leaning on me. For the first time since the club I heard Sam let out a small sigh of contentment and watched as her eyes slowly flickered open at last.

Sam's POV

I awoke to the sound of Freddie's breathing. It took me a second to remember where I was and what had happened and I remembered something about a man and a song. But the details were all a blur. I flickered my eyes open to find myself wrapped in a warm blanket, slightly in Freddie's arms. I slowly looked up at his face and saw him staring intently at me as he whispered, "Sam? Are you awake?"

"Good Morning, Benson!" I laughed at him as I played with the blanket. He seemed caught off-guard. "You seem really awake, and it's not morning, it has to be about midnight."

Some details drifted back to me when I heard the time and I replied, "Oh yeah." I sat up more and moved my hair behind my ear. Freddie just stared at me like he was waiting for me to say something. "What?" I asked him a bit rudely. His eyebrows furrowed in contemplation of my question, like he was arguing with himself deciding whether or not he should ask me about something.

"Are you still drunk?" He asked me.

"Drunk?" I repeated standing up. I wobbled around and nearly fell down, "Whoa," I said.

"You're still drunk." He answered his own question.

I shook my head in disgust. "Am not." I do not lose my cool for long. I knew that my mind could be very sharp, and that I was completely sober now. "I can walk in a straight line." I told him and demonstrated that very thing as the words escaped my mouth. When I was finished I spun towards him and did a little, "Ta – Da!"

He twisted his face up in an unconvinced way but seemed to accept that I was sober. I plopped back down into my blanket next to him and turned to face him this time rather than lean on him. He seemed really silent and tense. So, I decided to lighten the mood.

"Guess what?" I asked him.

"What?" he answered in a monotone.

"No. Guess." I said urging him on with my hands.

He looked me straight in the eye and the only sound to be heard was my stomach growling. "You're hungry," he told me, more like a statement than a guess.

I growled back at my stomach and punched it lightly. "You gave me away," I scolded it.

Freddie laughed for the first time since I regained consciousness. "Sure, you're not drunk."

"I'm really not, Freddork."

He stared into the fire for a minute before gradually turning his gaze back to meet my own. "Can I ask you something?" he tested.

I thought for a moment. Whatever he had to ask me couldn't be all that bad. It's not like he knew about….things. "Anything." I granted with a nod.

"Okay," Freddie said and let out a deep breath. "When I was bringing you back to Harley, I was watching you to make sure you were still okay, and well, I couldn't help but notice," he paused for a minute and looked at me. I moved my face in a little and cocked an eyebrow signaling him to go on. "that you had quite a few bruises along your back," I moved backward, shocked, "and uh… stomach."

No one said anything for a few seconds and I replied with a simple, "Oh." He continued to look at me waiting for some kind of additional explanation. I didn't know what to tell him though. I didn't want to just empty my soul out to him, mainly because I didn't want any pity from him.

Something inside me wanted to protect him, to hide the truth from him. I didn't know what he would think of me if he knew about my mother, about my past. So I did the only thing I could. I changed the subject.

"So, remember that time when you gave me a bag of bacon?" I tested, playing it off like we were reliving memories from years ago.

"Don't change the subject."

"Well, I just want to say that it was reeeealy good."

"Sam!" he yelled.

My light composure faded and I saw how much he wanted to know what was wrong written all over his face.

"Okay." I decided. Telling him seemed like a good way to go at this point, because after all, no matter how much neither of us wanted to admit it, at the end of the day we were best friends. "Do you remember when we first started this adventure and you asked me why I ran away, but I didn't tell you?"

His face lit up in remembrance. "Oh yeah. You tried to change the subject then too."

I shrugged, "Yeah, well these…bruises…are the reason I ran away. It's my mother's fault." My eyes drifted down to the ground, because I thought not looking at him while I told him would make this easier. "She would get drunk, and well, she was an abusive drunk. I suppose I should tell you that my father ran away when I was very little.

"He recognized my mother for what she was, a drunk, and he couldn't take it anymore. So then it was only me and her. She would just go out drinking every night and come home and beat me. But, I never told anyone but Carly.

"It's also why I have a lot of experience being on the run. I would run away all the time for the night or something. But I always came back."

I stole a glance at his face before I continued to find that he was focused intently on my story. I conveniently left out the 'and then I met you' in the next part of the story. "Then recently, I stopped running away. I would just spend the night at Carly's or something." I looked up at him with pleading eyes, "Do you understand why I can't go back now?"

Freddie sat there numb, and it took a few seconds before realization that I had asked him a question dawned across his face. "But we have to," he said, his voice shaking.

I shook my head. "No, I don't. I mean I guess you could leave me if you wanted." Freddie tried to crack a smile, but you could still hear the sadness in his voice, "I could never survive my way home without you. You have to come back with me."

I started to say something but he cut me off, "I'll convince you. Look, I can fix this. I'll turn your mother in; you can find somewhere else to live."

"No, don't do that," I asked him. "I don't want to be taken away to live with some problem kids, I can make it fine on my own. I'm a Puckett."

"But you're not like the rest of your family," Freddie consoled me.

"I'm nothing special." I put out there.

Freddie shrugged and muttered something under his breath that I couldn't hear. "And look," I went on, regaining some of my self-control and moving closer to him, "if you tell anyone about this, you're gonna be the one getting beat up." I punched him on the arm for full effect.

He winced a little and said, "Understood."

"But I bet you," Freddie proposed, "that I can get you to go back."

"Pfft. You're on. What do you want to bet?" I challenged.

Freddie thought about that for a moment. "I don't know yet. It has to be the best stakes ever, so it will take me longer to decide. It'll make it more interesting that way."

"Now you're thinking, Benson. Alright, I'll let you decide. But if you stay there in Texas with me, than I win."

"Of course." Freddie agreed.

We were both satisfied so I announced with a sigh, "Mama's tired."

"Yeah, it's been a long day," Freddie agreed with me. "I think it's time to call it a night."

I got comfortable in my big blanket and watched silently as Freddie went to retrieve the same old shabby one that he had been using the whole time, with his lips in a thin line as he looked it over and tossed it around in his hands.

He looked a little uncomfortable as he set it down next to me. "Freddie," I called him and he looked up at me. "Maybe, just for tonight, you can have my blanket." I went to move the blanket off of me and place it on him, but before I could finish he started shaking his head and his hands in front of his face, "No, no, no. You need it, you fainted today, remember? Rest up."

I nodded, "Oh yeah. What really happened there, anyway?"

"Well," Freddie readied himself for the story, "After you got drunk, we danced, but you got taken away by some guy who was way too old for you. Then, you started singing with him on stage and I went up there to try to stop you, and just take you back. But then he...he…kissed you. That's when you fainted and I brought you back here," Freddie finished, his voice trailing off.

I nodded intensely, "Oh, I vaguely remember some of that."

Freddie understood, "Yeah, you were pretty drunk."

"I'll probably have a hangover in the morning," I laughed. I smiled at him and added as an obvious afterthought, "how about we just forget about that, okay?"

"I'll definitely try," Freddie said, matching my joking tone. I collapsed on my back and looked up at the stars. They were beautiful tonight, and I knew they were the same stars that Carly and Spencer were looking up at tonight, which made me feel connected to them.

"Good night, Sam. Dream of ham." Freddie told me as he began to close his eyes and tear them away from the stars. I smiled to myself thinking of the great dreams I would have now. "Good night, Freddie. Dream of techie." I heard a slight laugh as I began to drift off to a sweet sleep.

"Wait!" I shouted and my eyes flew open. Freddie screamed and shot up into a sitting position beside me. "We didn't ankle swear!" I explained to him.

"Oh my gosh, you're right!" he stated appalled he had not remembered either.

We both got up and before we started I announced, "Here's to the bet with the unnamed stakes. If we stay in Texas, I win. If we go back to Washington, you win."

"Deal." Freddie agreed, and we went through the sacred ankle swear, both feeling much better when it was now official. "Now we can sleep." Freddie pointed out and we both got back into our blankets. We didn't chat for the rest of the night, but I felt better knowing he knew about my bruises, but I hoped he wouldn't make a big deal out of them. It had been a very exasperating day, and it wasn't long before I drifted off into sleep.

It was a pleasant sleep, because I knew he was there, and for the first time in a long time, I felt safe.