


Blizzard

by samandfreddie38



Category: iCarly
Genre: Angst, Hurt-Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-02
Updated: 2011-02-02
Packaged: 2014-10-20 09:41:24
Rating: K
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6708735/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2636420/samandfreddie38
Summary: Sometimes there are storms that you want to get caught in. Sam&Freddie one-shot.





	Blizzard

**So a huge blizzard hit our area and my school closed for a snow day; the third time in ELEVEN YEARS! Ah, what a treat. I decided to celebrate by writing another Sam&Freddie one-shot. PLEASE R&R! I do not own iCarly.**

* * *

She was a tempest.

He knew that. Danger. Suffocation. The brink of utter destruction.

He watched her crumble every time. He watched her stumble back up after each battle, barely able to conceal wounds from the war, sinking lower and lower.

He wanted to extend his hand. To pull her out of the deep crack in Earth's surface that she insisted on keeping herself in. Letting herself fall, pretending her life was a game, not revealing the harsh reality of it. Repeating that love was quicksand; there is no way out, you are eventually annihilated, left with nothing. He wanted to show her everything life had to offer that doesn't tear you apart. But she refused to learn. Her pride was at stake. And pride is not something to be toyed with.

There was a kite she used to fly. Not literally, of course. It seems as though the only way he can understand her now is if he dissects her life into metaphors.

This kite was simple, beautiful, and delicate. One day, there was a storm. She couldn't hold on to it anymore. There was no more string. The gusts of wind ripped it out of her feeble hands. She watched it float away, Despair and Longing groping her heart. But Despair and Longing couldn't hold on to it for long. She cut their wrists, peeling their gnarly fingers from the part of her that she eventually shut down. The part he tried so desperately to open back up, to find the key to. But she threw that key down the gutter a long time ago.

The kite was ignorance.

The day the storm came, that day she lost that kite; the night her father left. Love didn't mean a thing. Her mother changed. Love didn't mean a thing. Her sister departed for boarding school. Love didn't mean a thing.

Love didn't mean a thing.

The four chambers of her spiritless heart used to have purpose. They were four sides of her that he never got to see. But he knew that deep down, _way_ deep down, they existed. But they were in her jail, in holding cells that had keys, yet again, thrown down the gutter.

He thought it was possible to just pick the locks. He's seen her do it to normal doors. Therefore, he could unlock those chambers crying out for help from her stale heart.

Stupid. _Stupid_.

How on _Earth_ did he come to _that_ conclusion? He was wrong, _so_ wrong. He used every safety pin, every paper clip, every piece of wire he could muster. Again, not literally. He couldn't connect anything literal to her anymore.

You are _never_ supposed to mess with the storm. You hunker down, possibly with a few materials to keep yourself alive, and wait it out. He messed with the storm. He screwed with her head. He didn't mean to. If he knew the consequences, he would have steered clear long, long ago.

He destroyed her.

He found that one thing that would fit in the locks of those holding cells. Himself. So he used that.

He realized there was a reason for that jail inside of her. Those four chambers ruined her. They had gone unused for all that time, and the fact that he tried to make her fully use them again was completely out of hand. She wasn't ready.

So now he's decided to wait for her. Because she's a storm that he wants to be caught in. He wants her wind to whip through his hair, making the roots strain to keep their hold onto his scalp. He wants her grey sky and fog to hover over his soul, infiltrating his very essence. He wants the frozen flakes of water to cleanse him, piercing his eyes, covering the ground with a blanket of silence. The silence she will find peaceful in the wake of the blizzard. The quiet that will make her believe that quicksand is just a fancy term for the cement of nirvana.

So he will wait. And only when she is ready, he will latch onto her. And she will accept him. Because the name 'Sam' is the only name he will ever covet.

* * *

**So yes, this was random and short, but I really wanted to get something out before I have to go back to school :/ MANY metaphors. A review for your thoughts? (even if it's one word; seriously, they make my day)**


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