


To The Wolves

by samandfreddie38



Category: iCarly
Genre: Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2015-03-18 04:15:59
Rating: T
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7165488/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2636420/samandfreddie38
Summary: From fatshake weapons to gestures with secret meanings, they've been through it all. Sam&Freddie one-shot.





	To The Wolves

**Inspired by "To The Wolves" by Anberlin but NOT a song-fic. I don't own iCarly. R&R!**

**IMPORTANT: This is a one-shot with four different scenes in chronological order. But they don't occur **_**right**_** after each other…obviously. And the writing style changes throughout, but you'll probably see that as you go.**

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><p><em>Who needs enemies when we've got friends like you?<em>

* * *

><p>"Just a little gremlin…he's got his cheese where his chiz should be…" she grumbles to herself as she fumbles in her hair for a pin. "That stupid Barbie doll…yeah, just a unicorn with glitter right up his-"<p>

"Uh, Sam?" The door across the hall opens and he appears.

"Kinky blockhead…doesn't know his ham from his pork…" She finds what she's been looking for and shoves it in the lock.

"Sam?" he tries again.

She puts her fatshake on the ground beside her and leans against the door to listen to the tumblers shift. "That stick-armed birdbrain who can't even have a-"

"SAM!"

"WHAT?" She whirls around and glares at him. The door suddenly falls inward a few inches and halts. Letting out a shriek of rage, she yanks off the chain and explodes into the apartment, making sure to take her fatshake with her. "CARLY!" She takes an angry sip.

He approaches her cautiously from behind. "Was breaking into their apartment really necessary?"

Her fiery blonde locks swirl in the air as she spins around to give him that look again. "Is you _being_ here really necessary?"

He glances off to the side with a bizarre look on his face and watches her storm to the kitchen, rummage through the fridge, and emerge with a chicken leg. Taking a large bite, she yells, "CAWRY! GEDOWN HEH!"

"She's not upstairs." He plops himself down on the couch and patiently waits for her rampage to end.

She swallows chewed-up meat and grizzle. "Well then where _IS_ she, boobhead?"

He rolls his eyes and rests his feet on the coffee table. "Clever."

Out of nowhere, a half-eaten chicken leg smashes into his face and he crashes down onto the floor. "OW!"

"NOW look what you did!" She stomps into the living room. "You made me waste a perfectly good leg!"

"What is _up_ with you?" He gets up and eyes her warily, prepared for another flying object.

"He's a freaking BUTTERFLY!" she spats and kicks the wall, leaving a good-sized dent. He winces.

"Who, Ben?"

"This is the LAST time I do something like this again!" She then proceeds to mimic her brunette best friend. "Oh yeah, Sam. It'll be fun, I promise…he's perfect, just _perfect_!" She giggles like a possessed rainbow-lover and scowls.

"What, a blind date?"

"Can't you just _shut up_?"

He ignores her. "What was wrong with him?"

She huffs and takes another swig of her shake. "A vegetarian! She sets me up with a _vegetarian!_"

He gives her an incredulous look. _Seriously?_

"That's IT? You're _this_ upset over _that_?"

"CARLY! GET DOWN HERE!"

"Sam! She's-"

"CARLY! GE-"

"SAM!" he screams and grabs her shoulders.

"WHAT?"

"She's not here!"

She slaps his hands off of her. "Well then where _is_ she?"

"Spencer dragged her to some bottle-bot convention."

She folds her arms and huffs. "Of course."

"Is Ben being a vegetarian really _that_ bad?"

"Do I even have to _answer_ that?" She looks at him incredulously and shakes her head. "Man, there'll never be a perfect guy for mama."

"Come on, Sam…"

She just shakes her head again.

"I know somewhere out there there's a meat-loving, violent Cuttlefish fan who loves beating up shirtless nerds, just like you."

Her eyes sear through the skin on his face. "And that's supposed to be a _compliment_?"

"You know what I meant…"

"Just shut up."

"Dude-"

"I said shut up!"

"Sam, you're a catch."

She's startled and gives him a confused look. He shrugs. "You're loyal. You stand up for what you believe in. You're funny. You're unique. You're you." As if it's as simple as that. Which it obviously isn't.

She's frozen in place for a moment and before realizing what she's doing, lifts up the cup and drowns him in thick, dark pink liquid.

He sputters and backs away from her, who is paralyzed with an empty fat shake cup in her hand.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" he yells, wiping some of the shake from his face. "What was _that_ for?"

Her mouth remains half-open and she's motionless for a couple seconds, at a loss for words. As he's still furiously shaking out his hair, she hurriedly leaves the Shay's apartment without a single word.

* * *

><p>He walks through the downpour because he loves the way the raindrops caress the skin on his cheeks. He loves the light grey sky that accents the green of the leaves that whistle in the wind. He loves the serenity and desolation of the park when thunderstorms dominate the atmosphere.<p>

But this time he isn't alone.

He sees her standing near the swings, looking at an object lying on the ground. He comes closer and recognizes the object. His voice is barely audible over the howl of the wind and the patter of the rain.

"Sam?"

She simply looks at him and states, "It's dead, Freddie."

He studies her for a moment as her gaze returns to the drenched bird. The rain streaming down her cheeks looks like tears. "Yeah, I guess it is." He doesn't know what else to say.

It takes him a moment to realize she's shivering and the goosebumps on her arms are the size of ping-pong balls. "C'mon. You've gotta get inside."

She remains still, gazing at the lifeless creature immersed in soggy black woodchips. He touches her arm and she pulls away. "Wait."

She proceeds to gently pick up the bird and place it under the overhang of the playground where it shelters the ground from the storm. She then joins him and he walks her back to her house in silence.

He finds out the next day that her cat Frothy had died that morning.

* * *

><p>"I am <em>here<em>, yo!" The studio door slams shut as the two young Gibsons enter the room.

"It's about _time_!" Carly retorts.

"Sammy!" Guppy immediately exclaims and totters over to his crush like a baby penguin. She's not in the greatest of moods but she can't help but grin, just a little. "Gup! 'Sup you nutball?"

"Nuttin'," he coos softly and hugs her knees. The female brunette makes "aww…" noises, the older Gibson looks a tad embarrassed, and iCarly's tech producer just looks on and smiles. But there's something in that smile that is more than anyone can ever see.

Sam realizes that they're all kind of staring at her so she clears her throat and mocks Freddie. "What happened to the 'five, four, three, two' and 'you don't SAY the one!'?" He rolls his eyes but still has a grin on his face. Carly moves beside her blonde best friend and gives her the blue remote while Gibby steps to the side. "Five, four, three, two…" he points at the two girls but silently mouths "one" and smirks at the blonde. She snickers and lets Guppy tug on her shorts some more as they introduce webcast number two-hundred-and-something. He isn't really paying attention when Gibby jumps onto the screen wearing nothing but a dark green hula skirt, flamingo clip-on earrings, and a pinecone helmet. He's too enveloped with the way she can move gracefully around the studio, bring on the charm and comedy, and keep a lovestruck Guppy Gibson entertained for over an hour. And when they're done with the show, the seven year-old clings to her like a moth to a perfectly lit flame, warmth and shine enticingly wonderful. And he's awestruck as the warmth and shine never leave her eyes as she convinces the mini-Gibby to go home with his older brother: an impossible task for anyone else to do.

"Sam, come wittus!" he urges, pulling on her arm. She kneels down next to him as Carly and Gibby run off to the kitchen to extinguish whatever crazy contraption Spencer's lit on fire this time as Freddie observes from the Shay's living room couch.

"Want me to tell you a secret, Gup my man?" Her slight grin grows wider when he nods eagerly; Freddie expects the poor kid's head to fall off at any moment.

She leans in closer and her lips are inches away from his ear. "You'll always be my little squirt. Don't you forget that, even when you're a famous billionaire and I'm chiz-knows-how-old. Alright?"

He nods again, chin smacking against his chest as that lopsided smile grows in length. "Now go home, Junior." Her head turns toward the kitchen when Carly, Gibby, and Spencer scream. "As soon as that fire's put out," she adds as an afterthought.

And since Guppy loves the sight of the untamed flickering flames, he waddles to the kitchen and calls out, "Happy birfday!"

Sam plops down on the couch next to Freddie and sighs contentedly. "I need me some meat," she murmurs, stroking her belly. He chuckles and nudges her shoulder.

"You know, you're gonna make an awesome mother one day."

And because she doesn't have a dark pink fat shake handy, all she can do is give him a smirk of silent gratitude and nudge back.

* * *

><p>It's something you'd probably see in a movie or read about in a romance novel. She still finds her spot under the weeping willow next to the serene river to be almost unreal, with the tree's branches lingering over her head and swaying in the slight breeze. The small bridge straddling the river to her right and the grotesque, monstrous branch of an abandoned tree poking out from the surface of the water is perfectly picturesque. The wind sifts through her hair and causes her to exhale heavily with satisfaction, lying down on the flawlessly rugged ground. Her eyes close.<p>

There's only one thing missing.

"Puckett."

She doesn't need to open them back up. "Benson." She feels the grass to her left move, affirming his presence. A soft grunt escapes into the air and floods her ears as he lies down beside her. She shifts her position on the ground without opening her eyes and lets her head plummet into his gut with a thud.

"Oomph." His soft voice echoes throughout her eardrums as she feels the air rush out of him. And then he chuckles and his belly rocks her head back and forth as her blonde waves cascade over his chest. She feels his embrace, one arm draped across her stomach and one snaked around her shoulder. She can't stop herself from thinking one word.

_Perfection._

He kisses her upper jaw, the skin just below her right ear, and she purrs blissfully. When he softly snickers in response, she opens her eyes and the sight of him is almost blinding.

"Am I dreaming?" Another gust of wind and the willow's leaves whisper the answer she awaits.

He hugs her tighter to his chest and his lips brush against her forehead. "If I say yes?"

She twists a little and digs her skull further into his gut and he wheezes. "I think we both know what happens." Releasing the pressure, he breathes again and she turns on her side. Face to face.

"I wouldn't mind that," he half-whispers half-growls into her ear, making her shiver. She sees his lascivious smirk and rolls her eyes. "Nub."

"You love nubs."

She fits herself perfectly against him, head still on his chest. "Guilty as charged," she murmurs and closes her eyes once more.

_Safety._

She's never outright said "I love you". He manipulates something of the like out of her every once in a while, like this moment right here. And somehow their secret messages mean more than those overused and hollow words.

This is his life. She is his life. He wants to tell her this when he asks her, but he knows that he needs to come up with another secret message. And he never finds it a burden or a job. She is Sam and she's the lone wolf that wormed her way into his heart. He's been howling at the full moon ever since.

He laughs as he comes up with these lame metaphors and sees her smile. His heart explodes out of his chest, but he's not nervous. His chest is tight with anticipation, but he isn't scared. The tiny box in his back pocket may be burning a hole in his worn jeans and searing his skin, but he doesn't feel it.

He takes a deep breath and watches as the blonde strands of her hair tremble when he exhales into them. He needs her more than life itself, and she knows it. She needs him more than life itself, and he knows it. And both are fine with this absolute dependency. Because it's absolutely necessary.

He takes a deep breath. He's not nervous.

"Yo Puckett." Her eyes open and she looks at him. He wonders if she knows what's coming.

He reaches for her left hand and plays with her fourth finger, running his thumb up and down its skin.

The expression on her face is one he's never seen before, and if he thought his heart exploded before, what happens within him now is incomprehensible.

"If I say yes?" she whispers as she loses herself in his eyes. Her voice is full of something he's never heard before.

"I wouldn't mind that."

_Love._

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><p><strong>Did you like? I've been meaning to write this for months and finally fought back writer's block, procrastination, and flat-out laziness. Please review!<strong>

**To my "Exit Wounds" peeps: Chapter Sixteen will be up Thursday July 14****th**** =]**

**Oh, and NOTHING against vegetarians! I'm one myself. And that whole willow tree/river scene is true. True meaning I go to that place, my little escape, and just sit there for hours. It's quite the life-changing experience :)**


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