


The Ointment

by Colizuma



Category: iCarly
Genre: Friendship, Hurt-Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-14
Packaged: 2014-09-29 14:54:20
Rating: T
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,086
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6643011/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2636044/Colizuma
Summary: During a long ride, Freddie explains the Ointment to sam. In doing so he reveals what happened to his father and why his mom is the way she is. Slight Seddie. New Chapter is uploaded. This one is slightly violent/graphic. You have been warned.





	1. Chapter 1

**To all my fans (hey, there might be one or two) thinking "He still hasn't updated iWish She Was Mine!" sorry, I am working on it but I had an OMG GREAT IDEA moment and had to write this.**

**I do not own iCarly, Dan does.**

The Ointment

"Freddie, don't forget your ointment!" Mrs. Benson yells out towards the car, just as it was pulling out of the driveway.

"Ugh," Freddie groaned. He hated how his mother treated him. He was glad that his mom was letting him go on this trip. Sam, Carly, Spencer, and him were going to Vancouver for the weekend.

Carly was riding on the back of Spencer's motorcycle, and Sam was riding with Freddie in his new car, well eleven years old, but it was new to him.

"GodI need this vacation," Freddie said. "I'm so glad I won't have to deal with my Mom all weekend."

"I bet, your mom is a total psychopath," Sam said, laughing a bit. "So, since I'm stuck in this piece of junk car with the king of nubs for two and a half hours, I've decided that you are going to entertain me," she said with a grin.

"Fine, what do you wanna do?" Just then his phone rang. He handed if to the blonde sitting next to him. "Can ya answer it please?" he asked

"Ugh, fine," Sam said. She looked at the phone and said "I's your mother." She flipped open the phone and said "What now?"

"Make sure Freddiekins puts on his ointment!" Mrs. Benson yelled into the phone.

"Fine, whatever," Sam snipped at the crazy lady on the phone. She hung up, but the background caught her eye. She had expected his background to be a picture of Carly, but instead it was a picture from an iCarly promotion. Spencer had his hands on Carly's shoulders, and Freddie and Sam had an arm around each other. (see the link on my profile for photo) She decided to brush it off and set the phone down.

"So, I've always wondered about your 'ointment'," Sam said. "What's it for anyway?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Freddie quickly replied in a very defensive tone.

"Look, this ride will go a lot quicker if you just start talkin. I don't wanna have to beat you up while you're driving, but I will," Sam said, shaking her fist as a warning.

"Look, Sam, I really don't wanna talk about it. Besides, it's a long story." Freddie said.

"Well we have plenty of time, so start talkin ointment boy," Sam said, punching him lightly in the arm.

"Fine, but it's not a nice story," Freddie responed.

**Okay, it's the first chapter. I'm writing the second one now. That should be it. **

**Please read and review. Constructive criticism is encouraged. I cant write better for you if you don't tell me what's good and what's bad about my writing.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is chapter two for all you people.**

**Please read and review my other story "iWish She Was Mine"**

**I do not own iCarly, Dan does.**

The Ointment

Chapter 1's Ending

"Look, Sam, I really don't wanna talk about it. Besides, it's a long story." Freddie said.

"Well we have plenty of time, so start talkin ointment boy," Sam said, punching him lightly in the arm.

"Fine, but it's not a nice story," Freddie responded.

Chapter 2

"The ointment is to reduce scars, and before you even ask, I'll tell you why I have scars." Freddie said quickly. It was obvious that this was not something he wanted to relive.

"I was about five, my father got laid off from his job," Freddie began with a sigh. "I don't remember what he used to do or why he was laid off, but I do remember that he changed after that."

"He started drinking more and more, and eventually he started coming home really drunk," Freddie's voice was beginning to get softer.

"He was a violent drunk. He used to bust through the door and start breaking stuff." Freddie said. "My mom used to tell me to hide in my room. Then she would go try to calm him down."

"Sometimes it would work, but most of the time he would hit her a few times. Just enough to make her beg him to stop," Freddie's voice cracked. "Once in a while he would beat her senseless. Then he would turn to me."

"Freddie." Sam started. She reached out and gently touched his arm. "You don't have to.."

Freddie cut her off and her arm dropped. "No, It's okay. He would beat me with his belt. Normally until I bled." A single tear rolled down his cheek, Freddie wiped it away.

"One time, when I was seven, he was really drunk," Freddie said in almost a whisper. "He beat my mother senseless. Then he got out his belt. He beat me really bad, so bad that I passed out. He kept beating me though." Freddie shifted in his seat. It was obvious he was very uncomfortable.

Sam's eyes hadn't left Freddie's face. She had no idea that the nub, who she always thought had had a perfect life, had gone through so much. She reached out and gently grabbed his hand , which was sitting on the center console.

"I woke up in the hospital. My mom was sitting in the chair next to me, crying. She told me that my dad was in jail, and he couldn't hurt me any more. She also promised never to let anything happen to me again. That's why she's so protective." He spoke low and slow, as if each word hurt on to say.

There was a few seconds of silence. Freddie broke it with a simple, "Well, now you know."

**Okay, here's the second chapter. I'm going to write a third chapter, but I gotta know, do you people want Seddie relationship of just friendship? Tell me in your review or PM me please!**

**I know, my writing sucks.**

**Please read and review my other story "iWish She Was Mine".**

**Please read and review. Constructive criticism is encouraged. I can't write better for you if you don't tell me what's good and what's bad about my writing.**


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