I got it out on Friday! Well...on Friday in like Hawaii...close enough. I'm so sorry about the reviews I haven't gotten to yet, I will reply ASAP. But I really do appreciate them!

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

"So Sam decided to stay home today?" asked Freddie, relieved.

"Yeah..." Carly decided not to give him the reasoning, since it involved the words 'Fridiot' and 'annoying the pie outta me.' "So, what exactly happened yesterday?"

Freddie shifted. The entire school knew about Sam's little episode, but the cause was still up in the air. He didn't know how much he was allowed to share, even with Carly, before Sam decided to give him the death penalty.

"No idea. She was really upset. Flashbacks?"

"I guess. Sam won't tell her therapist anything, though. Doesn't she get that she's going to keep having them?"

"Maybe they'll go away," Freddie suggested lamely.

"And maybe whoever hurt her'll be the next President of the United States," Carly argued. "But since that's not going to happen, why don't we figure out a way to get her to open up?"

"How? Do you realize it's Sam you're talking about? It's impossible to make her do anything she doesn't want to do."

"Oh, Freddie...there's so much you don't know."

"What're you doing here, nub?"

"Carly told me to come."

It was true. After her ambiguous responses to his 'how to get Sam to do anything' query, Carly had ordered him to meet her at Sam's house that night. Unfortunately, Carly was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, that was a stupid idea."

"Shut up, Sam, you know you're lonely."

"Lonely, yes, but not desperate."

"Must you be so vicious?"

"Must you say 'must you'?"

"You just did, too!"

"Yeah, well--" Sam winced. Her body still refused to cooperate when she wanted to do anything strenuous. She didn't know yelling fit that category. "I was mocking you."

It was too late. Already, an expression of pity had flitted across Freddie's face. It enraged her.

"Don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like--like you're gonna try and help me or something!"

"Why can't I? I'm your friend, that's what friends do."

Sam growled, "Don't kid yourself; I'd never be friends with a nub like you. And I definitely don't need--"

"You need to shut up. You're hurting yourself," Freddie replied shortly. She's in pain. Let it go. It's just PMSing times a thousand; she'll get over it...he continued to remind himself. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why don't you go die?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Where's Carly?"

"Don't change the subject. What did the guy do?"

"None of your business."

Freddie's ears turned red. This was going to get awkward. "Did he...hurt you?"

"Whaddya think, Dorkward, I'm lying in bed for fun?"

"No--I mean...like--well, um..."

"Did he rape me? Take a wild guess."

He was silent for a second, and then tried again. "If he didn't, then why won't you talk to anyone?"

"Why the heck does it matter?"

"It's supposed to clear your mind--you know, take the weight off your shoulders--"

"Then why don't you leave? I'll feel a lot better."

"Sam. Seriously."

"You're really annoying. Have I told you that already?"

"Just tell the poor therapist about the stupid guy!"

"I don't want to!"

Freddie frowned and leaned forward. It wasn't like she could beat him up, anyways; he could show a little interest. "You don't want to talk about it? Sam...are you scared?"

Sam punched him in the face.

"You left Freddie alone with Sam?" Gibby asked incredulously.

"Don't sound so terrified. He'll be fine. I just wanted Sam to open up a little bit."

"To Freddie?"

"She'll do it. Trust me."

"You know he's got a date with Wendy tonight, right? I don't think she wants him there with his face rearranged."

"Relax. I'm sure he'll come out of this just fine. Sam can barely move a muscle."

Gibby shrugged. "If you say so. I've got a hot date tonight, too. My girlfriend's a big fan of iCarly."

Carly stared at him incredulously. "You have a girlfriend?"

"Well...an online girlfriend...and I'm not sure she's real...but my mom was so happy when she found out!"

"Right...you have fun chatting with your imaginary date. I've got more important things to do. Like homework."

Sam. Was. Not. Scared.

She wasn't. She couldn't be. Who would ever respect her if they knew she was...uncomfortable...with being alone at night, now, or that she refused to sleep unless absolutely necessary--and even then only for a couple hours--or that she jumped at the slightest sound? No one would ever fear her again. She'd be dumb, ugly, rude, and weak. And people would say that to her face if they ever found out--if the problem even existed. Because she wasn't scared. She didn't need anyone to comfort her. She could take the guy any time, any day--that last time had just been a little unlucky.

This was the message Sam ached to beat into Freddie, but could only manage a few hits before her body begged for her to stop.

"Ow!"

Sam didn't even reply. She hurt all over. She laid back in bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her room lights were dull; the paint seemed yellow. It probably was. But at least it wasn't gray--that terrible color the sky had been that day. At least she couldn't feel the humidity in the air, like she had when she'd walked into that alley. At least she was safe, for now--it wasn't like the nub nursing his blackening eye could do anything to her, even when she was bedridden.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Are you really necessary?"

"That doesn't even make sense!"

"Yeah it does. Shut up and think about it."

"Why should I?"

Sam raised her fist threateningly, and Freddie flinched. It wasn't very dramatic, but it did help her confidence a little. Without realizing she'd said anything aloud, Sam murmured, "You're still afraid of me."

Freddie raised an eyebrow at her. "I'll always be afraid of you."

"Promise?"

"Huh?"

"No matter what?"

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

"Just answer me!"

"Okay! Okay, yeah. To me, you will always be Sam, the rabid, fanged, demented monster-demon-girl. Are you happy?"

No, she wasn't. But it didn't matter. "Yeah..."

Freddie waited, but Sam had sunk into her own little bubble of thought. He considered going to get ice for the throbbing that had started, but he didn't want to leave her all alone when she was acting so strange. "Are you okay?"

Again, she was silent. But when she did begin talking, she didn't answer his question.

She answered a whole bunch of others.

"I was walking home from Carly's. I always take the short route--nothing's ever happened to me before, and I didn't think it ever would..."

Freddie listened attentively, his hand slowly creeping up to cover hers. Sam couldn't meet his eye--she didn't want to know what he thought of her. Surprisingly enough, though, it felt good to let it all out. Really good. She even hazarded adding her own thoughts. It was all out in the open, and what was even better was that Freddie seemed to understand.

"And I thought--I thought..."

"That it was the end?" he suggested.

"Yeah. I thought I was dead."

His fingers entwined with hers. "You're fine now."

"What part of this looks 'fine' to you?"

"Well...you got out of it alive. You're lucky."

"I don't want to be lucky. I want to be sure."

"You can't control everything, Sam."

For the first time, she held his stare. "Watch me."

It was hard not to admire spunk like that. If only Freddie knew how much trouble her guts would get her into...

Wendy's call came around nine at night. The tech nerd was fast asleep in the chair he'd been sitting in, but one look at his caller ID and he was wide awake.

"Shoot! I was supposed to meet her two hours ago!"

Sam peered at him out of squinty eyes. It was the first night in a week she'd slept peacefully, and now Wendy had to wake her up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Freddie. I called you liked seven times."

"I'm so sorry, Wends. I fell asleep."

"Oh..."

"No, that came out wrong--I went over to Sam's too see how she was doing and I dozed off over here. You know how boring I find her," he joked lamely. Neither of the girls who heard were impressed.

"Oh. How is she?"

"Pretty good."

"Um, okay. Well, I'll talk to you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah. Bye." He hung up the phone and continued awkwardly, "I guess Carly's not coming."

"I guess you'd better leave, then." This time she was not exchanging banter. He'd really hurt her--how could he say he'd found her retelling dull? Wasn't telling somebody her 'cure'? What if that person didn't care?

Freddie sensed danger and got up. "Okay. I'll stop by tomorrow, then."

"Don't. Wendy'll have a hissy fit."

"Sam--"

"Get out!"

She pulled the covers over her head and waited until the door closed behind him. It was going to be a long night.

Review please!