


Your Hate Isn't Hate

by Jay Petrakis



Category: iCarly
Genre: Angst, Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-08-07
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2014-04-01 21:29:41
Rating: T
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,260
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6215142/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/872405/Jay-Petrakis
Summary: Sequel to Your Love Isn't Love. Three years later and where are Freddie and Sam now? Living together, but at the same time alone. Shocking news brings Sam mixed feelings. Rated T for mild language, mild violence and suggestive themes. Seddie; Sam-centric.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note: Award for most original-sounding title to a fanfic? Obviously not me! :P

* * *

**

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter One: Prologue

* * *

I didn't think I would ever be able to move on. I mean, c'mon- My father abused me as a child and nearly killed me and my friends, then my mother goes missing and is presumed dead? If something like that happened to you, you'd break down and cry.

I'm not going to lie, I was pretty depressed for a while after my dad was put behind bars. I mean, for one, I was living with total strangers. Everyone at school always had this look on their faces when they talked to me; They pitied me. I hated that look. I ostracized whatever friends I had and for a long time I was alone.

I was going through denial. Denial that my mom wasn't really dead. I looked everywhere for her and I called up every single one of my relatives. No one had seen her or even heard from her. It was like she disappeared off the face of the earth.

Carly and Freddie did everything they could and I'm thankful for them for that, but there was no hope. After nearly a half-a-year of searching later, I finally succumbed to the awful truth that my mother was dead. If no one had seen her, how could one person survive so long on their own? She _had_ to be gone. The night I told Carly and Freddie that I finally accepted my mother was gone, the two had already planned what to do next as part of the whole "moving on" process. They helped me map out the rest of my life and I decided on becoming a respectable member of society after I graduated from high school. I raised my grades from "failing" to "passable" and graduated.

By some crazy turn of events, me and Freddie became somewhat of an "item", I guess. We started going out a year or so after my dad went to prison. It was a depressing night for me as I was thinking about my dad and my mom; Carly was visiting her granddad in Yakima and Freddie happened to be there. Sure, I was feeling sad and vulnerable, but it's not like he totally came onto me and we ended up sleeping together. He was just being a friend and it was then that I realized he was there right from the beginning. From the moment I revealed my darkest secret to Carly, Freddie, and Spencer, to that very day. Our relationship was a little awkward at first, I admit, since we were always so used to me ripping on him all the time. But we made it work.

And here we were, three years later. I moved out of my foster parents' place when I turned 18 and Freddie moved out of his mom's place- He was 19 at the time. We moved in together in a small studio apartment in Shoreline. Freddie goes to university part-time and works at some kind of computer company; fixing computers or making them or something. I go to the community college near our apartment during the day and freelance as an artist as night. Spencer helps my budding career _a lot._

Even though we live a little's way away from Carly and Spencer, we still make an effort to see them or talk to them as often as we can between school and work. That was one of the many things I appreciated about my best friend. Mostly phone calls, but once in a great while Carly found time between her acting gigs to come see me. I usually complain about how weird Freddie is and my suspicions that he may be cheating on me or something. Carly always eases my worries and reminds me that I'm the only girl he has eyes for. So cheesy, but it brings a smile to my face.

But lately, I've been getting more and more tired. Tired of this charade of living my life as if everything's alright. I did pretty good at keeping a happy face for the first few years, but now things are just taking its toll.

I'm tired of this.

* * *

**Author's Note: Prologue is a little too angsty. Urgh. The rest of the story will be in third-person.**


	2. Trouble Back Home

**Author's Note: Urgghh;

* * *

**

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Two: Trouble Back Home

* * *

Sam shifted in her sleep. The sun shone with a radiance, its beams of light peeking through the window shades. Sam sleepily opened her eyes and turned to her lover. Or, at least, she thought she did. Sam rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and saw that no one was in bed with her.

_Where is he?_ She wondered. She stepped out of bed and into her house slippers as she wrapped herself in a robe. Sam sighed, trying to remember the last time he did this. She found that he was absent in the mornings more often, compared to before. She contemplated maybe calling him on his cell phone but she knew he probably wouldn't answer.

She called Carly instead.

"_Hey Sam. It's pretty early still, what's up?"_

"Did he call you?"

"_Who? Freddie? No. I haven't heard from him."_

"Oh." Sam walked away from the bed and approached the small dining table in the adjacent alcove. She lived in a relatively small studio apartment, so there weren't really "rooms". She saw a pot of coffee already prepared for pouring. She smiled at the thoughtfulness.

"_Hey, I'm getting some time off from work this coming weekend. Want to hit the beach park?"_

"Sure, I'll ask Freddie." Sam's voice was soft and placid, something Carly knew was uncharacteristic of her usually rambunctious best friend.

"_Are you doing alright, Sam?"_

Sam recognized Carly's tone of voice. She was worried. Sam quickly shook off whatever was bugging her and answered in a more aloof voice, "I'm cool, Carls. Just a little tired."

"_Oh, okay."_ Carly replied, relieved. _"I'll talk to you later, then. See you soon, Sam."_ The two disconnected their phone call.

"More like _a lot_ tired." Sam sighed, her voice reverting back to its softness.

* * *

Sam called Freddie a couple times to no avail, resulting in getting his voicemail each time. Finally, after a few hours of waiting, she finally got a call back.

"_Hey babe. Sorry I missed your call, I went to the office to pick up a few things for this stupid marketing ploy my company hoisted on me. I'm just leaving the office now, want to grab lunch together?"_

Sam thought of maybe hanging up on Freddie to let him know how ticked off she was that he was ignoring her calls, but she thought she should at least give him the benefit of the doubt.

"...'kay. Where do you want to go?"

The two would often eat at this little diner on the corner where they lived. It was convenient since it was so close and Sam could just walk over and eat some ham or bacon whenever she felt like it. Sam sat alone in the diner for 10 minutes before Freddie joined her. The two sat across from one another, one eating a large burger and the other picking at a small salad.

"Carls called this morning." Sam announced.

"Oh?"

"Mm-hmm. She wants to go to Shoreline Beach Park with us this weekend. Think you can make it?"

Sam looked at Freddie and hoped that he could go, since she hadn't really been spending as much time as she would've liked with him.

"Um, Yeah, I don't know. The marketing thing might take up some time." Freddie explained. "We'll see how it goes."  
Disappointment struck again. "...'kay."

Freddie quickly changed the subject and placed his hand under Sam's. "I see you're wearing the ring. It looks good on you." Sam returned Freddie's touch with a soft grip, smiling at him.

"Do you have to work today?" Sam asked. Freddie shook his head and continued smiling. "Want to come down to the art studio with me? Spence said he's got some wiring questions to ask you."

"Sure."

* * *

Freddie drove Sam back towards the heart of Seattle, to Spencer's art studio.

The car ride over was a bit awkward, neither one really talking to each other. Lately, Freddie felt that their relationship had become more forced. He looked over to Sam when they pulled to a red light and saw that she was looking at her new engagement ring.

"Bet all your friends will be jealous." Freddie joked. Sam smiled a little at the joke. On a good day like today, Sam was seen smiling. But lately Freddie noticed her smiles were growing more strained and she was becoming more and more fragile. Sometimes, Freddie came home to a sobbing Sam, broken and mourning the lost of her mother or some other past event that was traumatic for her. Freddie felt sorry for Sam, unable to even grasp the concept of how it feels to lose a family member. He was there to comfort Sam on those kinds of days, but he just wished that the good days were as drastically good as the bad days were bad.

Unbeknownst to Sam, Freddie had begun visiting Richard Puckett in jail more frequently. Before it was only once or twice a year, but lately it had increased to once or twice every three months. He never accepted Sam's mother's death. Sure, it was foolish and illogical for Freddie to even begin to think that Pam Puckett was still alive; But if Sam did not keep the hope alive, who would?

* * *

"Yo, Sammy-girl and Fred-man!" Spencer greeted as the couple walked through the back entrance of the art studio. Today the studio was not open for business, but for Spencer Shay there were no such things as "days off". He spent nearly every waking moment sculpting or building something new to sell or put on display. "How you been, Fred?" The two shared a quick man-hug and caught up. Freddie hadn't really seen Spencer in a few weeks, so it was nice to catch up. Spencer was like an older brother to Freddie. While Sam confided in Carly, Freddie found he often confided himself with Spencer.

"I've been good, Spence. Sam mentioned you needed some help wiring something?"

"Oh right right- Yea, I have it in the workshop. Follow me." Spencer said, taking off his work gloves and walking away. As Freddie started to follow, Spencer called out from the other room. "Sam, there's a letter addressed to you sitting in my room!"

_Strange._ Sam thought,_ I haven't used this address in years._ She casually walked down the hall to the back part of the studio, where a small room with a small futon and mini-fridge sat; Better known as Spencer's room. She saw a letter on the fridge, marked "URGENT!" Sam quickly ripped the envelope open and began reading. She couldn't believe her eyes.

* * *

"So, next time, just connect the G.T.C cable to the router port instead of the initial F-N port you were trying to use... And then connect the WES cord to _that_ instead." Freddie explained, pointing.

"..." Spencer stared at Freddie, dumbstruck.  
"Blue wire to the blue port. White cord to white port."

"Right."

Freddie finished wiring the strange machine and Spencer plugged it in. It immediately began rotating and functioning and Spencer cheered in triumph. The two walked back into the main studio room but Sam was nowhere to be seen.

"Sam?" Freddie called out. No reply.

"Maybe she's still in my room reading that letter. Go check." Spencer suggested, putting his work gloves back on. Freddie did as he was told and walked down the hall towards Spencer's room. As he made his way down the hall, he heard a very faint but familiar sound. Whimpering.

"Sam?" Freddie called out again, this time more alarmed. He dashed to the end of the hall and stood in the doorway of Spencer's room. He saw a desolate Sam, curled up in a ball, crying to herself on Spencer's bed. Sam heard Freddie and looked up to see the worried boy. She choked out his name between sobs and he ran to hold her. Freddie held Sam in his arms until Spencer came down the hall, curious as to what was going on.

"Whoa, what's going on here?" Spencer asked, concerned. He looked at the crying Sam and noticed the letter was no longer on the fridge.

"T-The letter." Sam choked out, rubbing the tears away from her eyes. Freddie looked around and saw a creased paper on the floor. He picked it up and scanned it. It was a very short, handwritten letter.

"_Sam, I miss you and I love you."_

"Who's this from?" Freddie questioned, handing the letter to Spencer for him to see. Freddie picked up the stray envelope from the floor and saw that there was no return address.

"I don't know where it came from," Sam started. "But that handwriting belongs to my mom."

* * *

**Author's Note: The plot thickens! Can you guess what's going on here? Is Sam's mom alive? Or is it just a trick? Tune in next time to find out! bwahaha :P**


	3. Trust Issues

**Author's Note: I apologize for the slightly long wait. Hope you're still interested in reading the story. ha.**

**

* * *

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Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Three: Trust Issues

* * *

"_Your mom's handwriting? How can you tell?"_

"_I'd know my mom's handwriting _anywhere_, Freddie. _That's_ my mom's handwriting."_

_Spencer gave the paper back to Sam, who clutched it close to her chest. That little piece of paper gave Sam a tremendous amount of hope that her mother could very well still be alive._

"_You gonna go to the cops with that?" Spencer asked._

_Freddie and Sam shared a look and knew they wouldn't get very far. Without a return address or a signature on the letter, this was pretty much another dead end. Sam knew this and all hope she had vanished just as quickly as it came._

"_For all we know, this letter was from months or years ago." Sam carefully put the letter back into its envelope, determined to keep it as one last memory of her departed mother._

_

* * *

_

Freddie watched Sam sleep peacefully on the futon as the sun had just began to rise up over the horizon. He looked at the letter once more before dialing a number of digits on his PearPhone. It had already been a few days since they received said letter and both Freddie and Sam agreed that it wasn't necessary to contact the police. After all, there was no return address to give any leads.

But Freddie knew better and saw the postmark labeled "Seattle, WA". Freddie knew the fact that the letter was mailed from Seattle meant whoever sent the letter was close by. The police just _had_ to have some clue as to who sent the letter.

A few rings later and the other line picked up.

"Hello, Detective Fisher? This is Freddie Benson- From the Richard Puckett case?."

"_Oh, Fred. I was actually just about to call you."_

"You were?"

"_It's about Richard. I think you should come down to the station; Without Samantha."_

"Um, alright. But what's this about?"

"_Just get down here. We'll talk in person."_

With that, the line was disconnected.

Freddie walked over to the futon and knelt down to kiss Sam on the forehead. "Be back in a few." he whispered, before quietly leaving the apartment.

* * *

"Fred, my office is right over here-" Detective Fisher called out. Freddie arrived at the police station in the late afternoon, the station busy with incoming fugitives and suspects. "My office has been moved since the last time you were here."

Detective Fisher, a rather stout and husky police officer, was the main man working the investigation of the Richard Puckett case. He's the man Freddie personally thanked in putting Richard behind bars. Fisher was there to arrest Richard, to interrogate him, and who made sure Sam was adjusting to her suddenly different new life. In a way, Freddie was indebted to the man.

Freddie entered the spacious office, the detective offering him a seat in the nice-looking chair. "You got a promotion?"

Fisher looked proud of himself. "Yeah, I'm a lieutenant now."

"Oh, well, congrats." Freddie said, less than enthusiastic. "You told me you had some information on Richard? What's so important that couldn't bring Sam?"

Lt. Fisher eyed Freddie, as if to measure how calm he was from sight alone. "We've received a call from King County Prison a few days ago."

"I was just there a few days ago; I went to visit him."

"Yes, we have that on file- We have video surveillance of your visit, as well."  
Freddie started to get nervous, his palms getting sweaty. He swallowed a lump in his throat before continuing. "What's this about, Lieutenant?"

"Richard escaped from King County Prison the day you went to see him. He's still at large."

Freddie could feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. If word ever got out and Sam found out, she would become paranoid and afraid. Freddie could already picture coming home every night to a fearful Sam, crying herself to sleep.

_Wait._ Freddie pulled out the letter and envelope and handed it to the detective. "We received this the day I visited Richard. Sam says the handwriting belongs to her mom. Do you think Richard could've sent it?"

"A letter from Pam Puckett?" Lt. Fisher asked, taking the letter and examining it. "I highly doubt Richard sent this letter. It's very possible someone from the outside has been keeping Pam hostage while Richard did his time in the big house."

"So you think Sam's mom is alive?" Freddie asked, awfully hopeful.

"It can't be proven, but things are looking up." Lt. Fisher handed back the letter to Freddie. "Has Richard tried to contact you at all?" Freddie shook his head. "Be on guard for him, Fred, we'll send a patrol car to watch over your apartment for the next couple of days, maybe a week. Just to ensure yours and Sam's safety. I'll leave letting Sam know about all this up to you, Fred."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"If Richard does try to contact you or approach you, you call us _immediately. _Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

_Someone from the outside._ Who on earth would want to help Sam's father do anything after hearing what he had done? Freddie thought about Sam's countless relatives who were either in prison or on parole. It was possible one of them had something to do with this whole thing.

Freddie mussed his hair as he dropped his things onto the floor and plopped face-first onto the empty futon. "Sam?" Freddie hollered, his voice muffled by a pillow. He lifted his head up and called out to Sam once more. No answer. Freddie groaned as he rolled off the futon onto the floor, stretching his tired limbs. He tried calling out once more, "Sam! You home?"

"There's a cop car outside."

Freddie jolted in surprise by Sam's sudden response. "Geez, you scared me." Freddie sat up and saw Sam sitting out on the fire escape, looking down towards 170th Street. Freddie joined Sam on the fire escape and quickly began thinking of what to tell Sam.

"What're you think they're here for?" Sam headed back into the apartment, walking into the kitchen.

_I don't want to lie to her. _"Probably waiting for something to happen- If anything happens." Freddie simply answered, closing the window behind him as he got off the fire escape. "You making breakfast?"

"Psh. No." Sam scoffed, reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a chicken drumstick. "Do you think they're watching us? I saw them looking at our building with binoculars." Sam completely side-stepped Freddie's attempt to change the subject, determined to know just what exactly the cops were up to.

Freddie peered out the window once more, seeing that the police were indeed looking up to their apartment building, more specifically at him. "Why would they be watching us?"

Sam shrugged as she took a bite of chicken. "I don't know. Do any illegal lately?"

"No!" Freddie exclaimed, appalled that Sam would even suspect him doing anything illegal. "Have you?" He walked over to the kitchen and looked Sam in the eye.

Sam had matured in the past three years and she grew out of doing mischievous things, but Freddie knew that Sam still had that side of her that surfaced every once in a while. "Not recently- And not anything that the police can prove."

"You naughty girl." Freddie chuckled, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist. Sam was in an oddly playful mood, so she smiled back her devious little smile and wrapped her arms around Freddie.

"You know it, Freddifer." The two shared a quick kiss, Freddie smiling as he looked into Sam's deep blue eyes. He didn't want to ruin Sam's happy mood.

"Carls is coming into town in a few hours. Remember the beach? Can you come with us?" Sam questioned hopefully.

"I have work to do. Besides, wouldn't you rather spend quality 'girl-time' with Carly?"

"Well, just come with me to say 'hi' and then you can go 'do your work'."

"...'Kay." Freddie smiled softly, content with the blissful moment, as he leaned in for another kiss. Freddie figured that he could wait until tonight to tell Sam the news.

* * *

"Carly!" Sam exclaimed as she threw her arms around her brunette best friend. The two girls shared a hug and Sam squeezed Carly as tight as she could. "I missed you, Carls."

"I missed you too, Sam, but right now you're squeezing the life outta me." joked Carly, Sam releasing her bear-hug grip. Carly and Freddie exchanged a friendly hug, although not quite as heartfelt as Carly and Sam's hug. "Hey, Freddie, long time no see."

"Yeah. How's 'Mr. Hollywood?'"

"Oh shut up. He's doing fine. Are you coming with us to the beach, Freddie?"

"No, I'm just here to say hi, I need to do some work at the office." Freddie explained, getting into his car. "It was good seeing you, Carly, maybe we can hang out next time." Freddie leaned out his car to give Sam a quick goodbye kiss before driving off, leaving Sam and Carly by themselves in the middle of the city.

"Freddie seems like he's doing well. How's things between the two of you?" The two best friends sat across each other at the small diner on the corner of the street. It was one of Carly's favorite places to eat when she came to visit.

"Things are alright, I guess." Sam sighed, resting her chin on her elevated arm. "I mean, he's been a little distant lately, but he does this every year at around this time. 'The time' being when my dad was sent away."

"Mm. But, he still loves you. I mean, the two of you are engaged, for Pete's sake!"

"I guess. But lately, it just seems like I can't trust him. He's always off 'doing work'," Sam started explaining, gesturing little air quotes with her fingers around the words "doing work". "It's getting really flippin' annoying. What if he's off banging some skunkbag behind my back?"

Carly's jaw dropped. "This is Freddie we're talking about here, Sam. _Freddie._ He's as goody-goody as 'goody-two-shoes' can get."

"I don't know. He made a call to Detective Fisher this morning."

"The guy who worked on your dad's case?"

"Yeah. We got a letter from my mom in the mail a few days ago. I guess Freddie was calling about that, but then he got called in to the station, without even mentioning the letter. Now the cops are parked outside our apartment." Sam continued, her eyes darting outside the window to make sure no one was watching her. "I feel like they're watching me."

"Have you done anything illegal lately?"

"Nothing that would warrant them to keep a patrol car on me. I think they're watching Freddie. I think maybe he's involved in something."

"I don't know, Sam. Freddie's not the type to be involved with criminals."

* * *

Freddie coasted down the street as a casual speed as his PearPhone suddenly rang. He quickly activated his Bluetooth headset, answering the call.

"Freddie B."

"Fred Benson." A voice called out, scratchy and hoarse.

"Yes... Who is this?"

"Richie P." The voice mocked Freddie's way of identifying himself.

It took Freddie a few seconds to put two and two together. "Richard? Where are you calling me from?" Freddie quickly swerved his car, nearly hitting another in the process as he drove into a parking lot. He sloppily parked the car into a lane and scrambled for his phone. Unidentified caller.

"Don't bother trying to find me. I'm doing well to stay under the radar. Listen up, Fred, I know you think Pam is still alive."

"You're damn right I know she's alive. You break out of jail so you can finish the job?"

Richard laughed from the other side of the line, the static made his voice sound distorted. "Not at all. But I'm betting you'd really like it if Sammy could be reunited with her mother again. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"  
"What do you want?"

Richard cackled as Freddie's peaked interest strung a cord in Richard's funny bone. "So you're interested?"

"I'll do anything to make Sam happy. Now, what do you want?"

"You're a good man, Fred. Glad to know you're being smart about this."

* * *

**Author's Note: Can you guess what'll happen next? :P**


	4. Money, Money, Money is All You Need

**Author's Note: I put this story was "Sam-centric" in the description, but I find that it's appearing to be more and more Freddie-centric. What do you think? I don't know. **

**X-Star-Girl-26-X: I will try to put more Seddie moments into the story, I have something planned for the next chapter.**

* * *

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Four: Money, Money, Money Is All You Need

* * *

"You should totally go for it, Carls."

"I don't know, what about Spencer? Who knows what'll happen if I'm not there to drop by every once in a while to check on him?"

Sam and Carly decided to skip the beach and instead spend a quiet day back home, at Sam and Freddie's studio apartment. The two spent hours talking about each other's lives, catching up with everything new going on with their careers.

"Freddie and I are here, Carly. I think we can keep an eye on Spencer. Besides that, he's a grown man." Sam argued. "Hollywood is the place to be for someone in the entertainment industry! You should go for it! C'mon, Carls. You're _really_ talented."

Carly smiled at Sam's compliment. "You really think I'm good enough for Hollywood?"

"Uh, hello? 'Professional web comedian'?" Sam reminded Carly. "Think about it, we were famous_ as kids_. We still have a ton of fans and they would be psyched if you made an appearance on the silver screen."

"You'll be alright if I move to California?" Carly asked, worried for her friend.

"Carls, I'm _fine._" Sam prepared two mugs of coffee and placed them on the dining table. "I have Freddie, anyway. You need to go for it. Besides, one day I might become rich enough and move to Hollywood."

"How is your money situation, anyway? Are you making enough for rent and school?"

Sam nodded as she took a sip of her coffee. "Yeah, I managed to sell a few paintings last week. But really, Freddie coves the rent for the most part. He's definitely the bread-winner and bacon-bringer-homer of the household" Sam joked.

"His mom is still paying for his university tuition?" Carly asked, with Sam nodding in response. "So money's not an issue, then?"

* * *

"How do I know this isn't just a trick?"

"_I'm offended, Fred. You think I'm so evil that I would swindle you out of your money? I'm an honest man, I keep my word."_

Freddie laughed coldly. "Cut the chiz, Richard. I know you know where Sam's mom is."

"_Yeah, I might have some info on her. I might be able to-"_

Freddie groaned, cutting off Richard. "Not good enough, Richard. I want you to release Sam's mom from whatever cage you have her locked up in!" Freddie yelled into the phone, his voice probably causing Richard's ears to ring.

There was no response from the other side of the line. Freddie used this opportunity to listen closely to the background noise. Freddie heard a few passing cars as well as a few honking horns. _Sounds like the city streets._

"_-You hear me?"_ Freddie snapped himself out of his inner thoughts. He had missed what Richard was saying. _"I said, I'll trade Pam for your silence and $1000. I don't want any police involved. At all."_

"Just $1000? Usually people in a ransom situation ask for millions of dollars." Freddie new that a thousand dollars was nowhere enough to satisfy Richard's greed.

"_I'm not an idiot, Fred. You're just a boy; 19 years old. I highly doubt you could even scrape together $10,000 with your job. I'm trying to be reasonable, here. You come up with the money by the end of next week and I'll let Pam go, no questions asked. And remember, no police."_

Freddie couldn't believe his ears. The only thing separating Sam from her mother was $1000. He could definitely get that money if he worked a couple more hours at the office. But negotiating with a criminal had its cons, as well. "I need time to think about this."

"_Fine. I'll call this number again later tonight. If you don't accept by then, I'll send you an address on where to pick up Pam's dead body."_ Richard laughed maniacally before followed by a loud click

Freddie dropped his PearPhone to the floor as he buried his face in his hands. Everything that had happened in the last few days had become overwhelming. Freddie was barely making it by with the money he made now. He had a free ride to go to school thanks to his mom, but for the most part, Freddie paid for the rent and utilities of the apartment. Making the rent, paying for food and getting Richard his $1000 would definitely be a challenge.

Freddie rubbed his face briskly before sighing and starting up the car again. He reached for his cell phone and looked at its wallpaper. It was a photo Freddie had taken a year or so ago, a casual photo of him and Sam sitting on their bed, cuddling. It was one of the few photos Freddie had of Sam smiling. He would give _anything _to see that smile again.

But one thing was for sure: If Freddie even wanted to go along with Richard's deal, he needed to pick up more hours at work.

* * *

Sam decided to continue her little "date" with Carly by taking her to the art studio. Carly agreed with the idea, wanting to see what type of paintings Sam did.

"Hey, kiddo!" Spencer greeted, wrapping his arms around his baby sister. "Long time no see!"  
"Spencer, we just saw each other two weeks ago." Carly laughed, hugging her brother back.

"Well, I get lonely." Spencer said solemnly, putting on his best puppy-dog face. This did not phase Carly.

"Oh stop it." Carly turned to the wall behind her, where a row of paintings were hung for display. "Are these all yours, Sam?"

"Well, unless your brother paints, these are all probably mines." Sam joked. "The latest ones are hung out front, my older works are all in the back."

Carly walked deeper into the studio very slowly, carefully observing each painting before moving on. She gave no comments out loud, and that seemed to be alright with Sam. Carly noticed that as she moved deeper into the studio, the happier the paintings seemed to get. Meaning, Sam was painting sadder and sadder things.

"There's not a lot from long time ago," Carly stated, noticing the very few paintings dated from years back.

"Yea, they sold like wild fire back then. Nowadays, no one really buys my paintings anymore." Sam answered back, shrugging her shoulders. It was if Sam was oblivious to the reasoning behind the lack of sales.

Spencer quickly ran to the front desk and swiped a typed letter off the surface. He quickly handed it to Sam for reading. "That reminds me, Sam, some big-shot art director from LA saw my sculptures and your paintings and wants to check out the gallery."

"What?" Sam exclaimed, skimming the letter.

"If he puts us on the map, think about how much business we'd get!" Spencer exclaimed, jumping for joy. "I'm putting out sculptures on double-time, now that I know that bigwig's coming. Sam, you should paint some new pieces if you have the time. I want the floor to be covered with my sculptures and the walls to be covered with your paintings."

"Sure thing, boss. I'll get started on that right away!" Sam replied jokingly, saluting to Spencer. Sam then proceeded to the back of the studio to gather up her art supplies as Carly took a look at Spencer's latest sculptures.

Carly glanced up from Spencer's sculpture and looked at Sam, who appeared to be very happy with the news Spencer brought.

_At least she has her artwork..._ Carly thought, watching Sam from afar. Suddenly, a digital beeping filled the silence. Sam quickly took out her cell phone and answered it.

"Hello?"

* * *

Freddie moaned. He had been working for what felt like hours. Probably because he _had_ been working for hours. He looked at his PearPhone for the time.

_Almost 1pm._

Freddie set his PearPhone onto his desk and looked at a photo that had been taped to the wall of his cubicle. It was a photo he took about a year or so ago, of Sam and himself, posing in front of the famous Hollywood sign. Sam had always wanted to go California and see all the sights in Hollywood, so Freddie took her there for her 17th birthday. Freddie looked upon the photo, Sam's smiling face now somewhat of a memory. More than anything, he wanted to see that smile once more.

Freddie suddenly jumped back to reality and peeked his head over his cubicle wall and saw his boss walking the corner.

"Mr. Parker!" Freddie called out, running for him. Drake Parker, a tall and rather handsome middle-aged man, turned around and locked his attention to Freddie. Parker favored Freddie since it was shown that Freddie had much promise in becoming a full-time employee at the world-renowned Parker-Nichols Enterprise.

"Freddie Benson, what can I do for you?" Parker asked, his voice cheerful and friendly.

"Can I have word with you in private? Perhaps in your office?"

Parker eyed Freddie suspiciously but knew the boy meant no harm. "Of course, Freddie. Step into my office." Parker backtracked his footsteps as he re-entered his large office, allowing Freddie to enter before closing the door quietly. "Please, have a seat."

Freddie sat nervously in the large lounge chair, looking up to his superior.

"What's up, Freddie? You usually never speak with me unless you have a problem to report about our operating systems or something." Parker leaned on the edge of his desk, stroking his facial hair nonchalantly.

"Mr. Parker, I sort of need a raise."

"A raise?" Parker questioned, raising an eyebrow. "You understand you're getting paid almost double what most kids your age are getting paid, right?"

"Yes sir. I appreciate your kindness, but I'm sort of in a tight spot right now."

"I'm sorry, but with everything the way it is now, there's no way I can give you a raise." Parker leaned forward, worried for Freddie. "Something going on at home? Or at school, perhaps?"

Freddie shook his head. "No, it isn't school."

"So it's at home, then. Your girl is alright, isn't she? Didn't get into some sort of accident and now you have to pay hospital bills?"

Freddie shook his head once more. "No, Sam is fine. It's just that, I recently proposed to her and-"

"Ah! You little dog, you!" Parker joked, laughing. "So you want money for a ring, is that it? Want to buy your girl a ring to show off to her folks?"

"Um, no. I gave her my grandmother's ring, so I'm good there..." Freddie explained, his speech becoming stuttered from impatience and getting side-tracked from his point.

"_Oh. _I get it." Parker said, slapping his head to his forehead. "Kid, the same thing happened to me when I was about your age. I used to be uh, quite the player, if you get my drift."

"Sir?"

"I tell you what- Since I can relate and sympathize, I'll give you more hours and throw a few jobs your way. Your commission will still be the same as always, but at least this way you'll be making more money."

"Um, thank you, sir. But I don't understand when you said 'the same thing happened' to you." Freddie said, taken aback.

"You knocked her up, right?" Parker assumed.

Just as Freddie was about to reply, he stopped himself. What was he going to do? Tell his boss that his fiancée's father broke out of jail and was now blackmailing him? Freddie swallowed a large lump in his throat and opened his mouth. "Yes." Freddie lied. Strangely enough, it wasn't difficult. Freddie assumed that since he was lying to everyone else, one more lie to one more person couldn't hurt. After all, it's not like Sam and Parker ever talked with one another.

Parker smiled as he remembered his golden years. "Yeah, just remember to double-bag it next time. You can't be too sure with those things these days." Parker said, before escorting Freddie out of his office. "Get started on the Shaffer case. The files should be where they should be."

"Y-Yessir." Freddie replied, as Parker walked away. He quickly took out his PearPhone and punched in a series of numbers.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Sam. I'm going to work at the office late, alright? Don't wait up for me, since you have class tomorrow morning."

"_Oh. Alright, I guess. Want me to bring you dinner or something? Since you're going to be working all night."_

"Thanks, babe, but I'm good. Love you."

"_Love you too."_

Freddie quickly hung up his PearPhone and went straight back to his desk, ready to work up a storm.

* * *

Sam entered her apartment and threw her coat on the floor and jumped onto the futon bed. She was exhausted after a long day of painting. She would have to go back again the day after tomorrow to paint even more, too. Sam thought about her day with Carly and figured it would be nice to watch some of the clips of iCarly. The trio didn't do skits anymore, but they updated their blogs and wrote on message boards every few months or so. Sam hadn't posted to her blog in more than a year.

Sam grabbed her busted-up laptop and quickly opened up the iCarly site and began watching videos.

"_And that's the proper way..." "To clean your parents' laptop!"_

Sam laughed at her and Carly's playful banter.

"_... Don't go into your office!" "What? Who is this?" "And do _NOT_ open the cabinet over the TV!"_

Sam must've watched a hundred videos before eventually dozing off. She dreamt of her younger days at Ridgeway High School with her friends, before her dad completely screwed up her life. She awoke a few hours later, the clock reading 10:23. Sam decided a little TV would be nice. Unfortunately, the remote had been missing for weeks.

"Ugh. Too. Far. Away..." Sam complained, stretching for the power button on the television. When she finally stretched far enough to tap the power button, the news came on.

"_Wonderful story, Dan. ...And our closing story of the night, a prisoner allegedly escaped from King County Prison a few days ago and has still not been caught."_

Sam diverted her complete attention to the television."_Police identify the man as Richard Puckett, a tall Caucasian man in his mid 40's. He is suspected to still be in Washington."_

Sam scrambled for the window and looked over the fire escape to 170th Street. The police car was still there. She saw one of the police officers get out of his car and look up at her.

_They're watching me. Not because I did something illegal, but because _he's _out there. And he's coming for me. _Sam quickly went back inside, closed all the windows, shut all the blinds and locked all the locks on the door. If Richard wanted Sam, he would have to take her fighting. After making sure everything was locked, she picked up her cell phone and went to the dining table. As she thought, Detective Fisher's business card was still there from earlier that morning. Just as she began dialing the phone, it rang. She identified the number immediately. Not only that, but there was suddenly a loud knocking at the front door, the doorknob shaking violently.

Sam answered the phone before two men burst through the front door, holding guns.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading! If you feel like it, you can review it! I love reading what you guys think. Thanks! :)**


	5. Our Time Together

**Author's Note: Did you notice in my last chapter, that Freddie's boss' name was Drake Parker? Now where exactly have we heard that name before? And he was the head of the Parker-Nichols Enterprise? You guessed right; Now can you spot the next little Schneider character mention in this chapter? ;)

* * *

**

Chapter Five: Our Time Together

* * *

Freddie slowly dragged his feet up the stairs of his apartment, the hour very late at the time. He had worked through the entire day and just wanted to get home to sleep. His eyes were heavy and Freddie could've sworn he was sleep-walking up those stairs. As he reached his floor, he pulled out his keys, ready to unlock his front door.

Except it was missing.

Freddie's eyes shot wide open as he saw that his apartment's door was now lying inside the apartment, as well as what he could only identify as blood on the floor.

_Sam._

Freddie quickly whipped out his PearPhone and called Sam. He let it ring three times before hanging up. Freddie wondered if Richard would be responsible for this as he ran out to the fire escape to call up the police parked outside.

Except they were missing, too.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Maybe it was Sam. He answered it swiftly.

"Hello?" Freddie shouted, very worried.

"_Jeez, shatter my eardrum why don't ya." _Richard's voice came through the receiver instead of Sam's.

"Oh. It's _you._"

_You got it, Fred. Now, about our deal..."_

"Listen, I don't have time to play games. Where's Sam?"

"_Hell if I know. I haven't been anywhere near her."_

"Don't mess with me, you scumbag. Our front door's broken down and she's not answering her cell phone! I know you had something to do with this!"

"Freddie? Who're you talking to?"  
Freddie quickly spun around to see his fiancée standing in the doorway. A wave of relief hit Freddie as he wrapped his arms around her, but she pushed him away. Freddie just looked bewildered by Sam's sudden repulsion.  
"Sam?" Freddie called out, trying to make physical contact with her. She took a step back, as two men in suits suddenly rounded the hall and appeared in the doorway. The two dark-skinned men in suits looked tough enough, except both had an injury on their faces. The bigger one had a slight bruise near his left eye, while the taller one was trying to dab at a bleeding wound on his forehead with a handkerchief.

"Who're these guys?" Freddie asked, pointing.

"Detectives. They were the ones watching me in their cop car." Sam said, rather matter-of-factly. "They're also the idiots who broke down the door, thinking I was in trouble."

"Rockmore and I said we would pay for it!" the bleeding detective shouted, as if in defense for himself.

The other just pulled him back, into the hall. "Shut up, Kimble, don't be idiot!" The more level-headed and intelligent of the two detectives turned to Sam. "Ms. Puckett, we'll be on our way. Again, sorry for the trouble. We'll get someone to fix that door for you right away."

With that, the two backtracked back down the hall. As soon as the two detectives were out of listening range, Sam locked eyes with Freddie, an angry expression written all over her face.

"You lied to me. Fisher told me he told you about my dad breaking out."

Freddie looked at Sam in shock. "Uh, I was gonna tell you. I only just found out this morning and I was going to tell you tonight, really."

"What else are you lying to me about? Who's on the phone?" Sam asked, pointing at Freddie's PearPhone. Freddie put the phone to his ear and heard a slight chuckle.

"_I'll call back tomorrow. Sounds like you got a lot on yer plate, Fred."_

Freddie ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket. He locked eyes with Sam and sighed deeply. "Nothing else, Sam. The only reason why I didn't tell you was because I didn't want you to worry... I didn't want you to be afraid."

"Well, I'm afraid now." Sam said softly, her voice now a quiet whisper. "My dad went after my mom and now he's coming back for me."

Freddie instinctively wrapped his arms around Sam, bringing her into a warm embrace. "There's no way I'm going to let that happen. I would die before I let him kill you."

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

"...I will _never_ leave you."

* * *

Sam opened her eyes, the cool Seattle morning air breezing in through the open window. She looked over to the front door and saw it was no longer broken. She found that instead of being left alone on the futon bed, two strong but gentle arms were wrapped around her.

"Freddie?"

Freddie stirred in his sleep, the sun's rays peeking into the apartment. "Urrhnnghh..." Freddie moaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He slowly opened his eyes and smiled at the blonde lying next to him.

"You don't have to leave early for work today?" Sam asked, hopeful that Freddie could stay.

Freddie just shook his head, a smile still plastered onto his face. "Nope. I'm all yours today, Princess."

"Shut up!" Sam shouted, doubtful.

"True chiz."

Sam smiled, curving her lips. Freddie quickly took the initiative and placed a quick kiss on her lips. Freddie then lazily rose out of bed, throwing on a shirt.

"Breakfast?" Freddie offered, taking a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator.

"Only if you're making a plate of luncheon meats with those eggs." Sam teased.

"I believe we do have your favorites..."

"Smoked ham and salami?"

"That's right!" Freddie smiled, pulling out the assorted luncheon meats from the fridge.

Sam eyes Freddie and the plate of meats suspiciously. "Alright, you. What's going on here? Trying to butter me up after everything that's been going down recently?"

Freddie looked sure of himself. "Maybe. Is it working?"

Sam playfully pushed Freddie away, taking the plate of luncheon meat from him. "Maybe."

Freddie took it upon himself to cook breakfast for his fair maiden and the two laid lazily on the futon, watching television after their hearty meal.

"I feel like a beached whale." Sam grunted, poking at the slight bulge in her stomach.

Freddie turned his head to face his bride-to-be and smiled goofily. "Hey."

"What's with the smile, dork?" Sam joked, Freddie's smile contagious.

"Let's go out, just the two of us. For like, the whole day." Freddie suggested. "We haven't gone out on a real date in forevers ago."

"Your grammar is fantastic." Sam laughed, rolling off the edge of the futon. "But I'm too lazy to ever go anywhere ever again."

"We could go to that park- The one you love so much."

Sam grinned at the idea. "Maybe. Sounds tempting. What about your job?"

Freddie rolled over to the same side of the futon and wrapped his arms around the tiny blonde. "I'll go to work tomorrow. I have to start going to work early and staying late a bunch, so we should spend this free-time wisely, right?"

"Hmph. I guess." Sam replied, sounding a little disappointed. "So, the park?"

* * *

The nearby park was within walking distance of the apartment so Freddie and Sam decided it would be nice to walk there. The strolled together, hand in hand, a playful push here and there, the simplicity reminding them of simpler times of their childhood.

"Remember that time we went ice skating?"

"With Spencer and Carly?"

Sam looked up at Freddie, with a smile on her face. "Yeah. I miss those times when we could just go somewhere and have fun. But now Spence is always busy with his artwork and Carls is always going away for her acting job..." Sam looked down to the pavement, averting her eyes from Freddie. "And now you're busy with school and work, too."

"Well don't worry, Puckett. In a few short years I'll be done with school and maybe we'll get enough money to buy a better place, closer to Spencer and Carly; So we can hang out with them more often." Freddie replied, letting go of Sam's hand and wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Oh, about that... Carls told me she might move to California," Sam remembered. "Hollywood, to be exact."

"Snap. To be with that actor guy?"

"No, to be in movies and stuff."

"Ah."

Sam found the conversation between Freddie-although simple—pleasant. The two hadn't been able to spend any real time together what with the stress of school, work, and now Richard's escape; But this moment belonged to them and no one else.

The two sat on a secluded park bench and watched the various people at the park. The couples walking side-by-side, families having picnics, joggers and others. Freddie laced his fingers with Sam's and looked down at their two hands. Sam did the same and then the two locked eyes with one another, an identical smile on each of their faces.

Suddenly, a slight buzzing sound interrupted the two's moment. Freddie took out his PearPhone and saw the call was coming from an unlisted number. Freddie knew without a doubt that it was Richard.

"Who's that?" Sam asked, as Freddie tried to decide whether or not to answer the call.

"Unknown number." Freddie simply stated, knowing full-well that he was terrible at lying. He slid his finger on the touch-screen and answered the call. "Hello?"

"_So, Fred. We got us a deal or what? Time's a wasting here, kid."_

"There's no one by that name here." Freddie responded. "You must have the wrong number."

"_What?"_A slight pause. _"Oh I get it. She's there, ain't she? You don't want her to know you're messing with the likes'a me? Here's the deal, I'll call again next week Friday with information on where to meet to exchange the cash. If I like what I see, I'll give Pam back to you, safe and sound. We have a deal?"_

"Alright."

"_Great."_

Freddie quickly hung up the phone and shrugged at Sam. "Wrong number."

Sam just eyed Freddie suspiciously, but decided to trust him since he promised he was no longer hiding any secrets. Freddie put away his phone and smiled back at Sam, although on the inside he was fearful for the days to come.

* * *

**Author's Note: Just a heads-up; This is the fluff before the angst storm.**


	6. Caged

**Author's Note: Updating these rather slowly, aren't I? I apologize for that.**

* * *

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Six: Caged

* * *

Sam sat home alone.

Lately, it seemed like she was often alone.

Freddie had often been going out early in the morning and coming back home late into the nights. She knew Freddie's work was important to him, but still; She was getting suspicious.

"_What else are you lying to me about?"_

"_Nothing else, Sam."_

Sam sighed as she plopped herself onto the futon with her laptop. A few keystrokes later and she had pulled up the main iCarly-dot-com site which had not been updated in months. She went through the archives and pulled up an older webisode of iCarly, from her high school years. Seeing how young and happy she once looked, she noticed after her father had attempted to murder her, she became frail and weak. She swallowed a large lump in her throat and rubbed away forming tears.

"_I'm Sam Puckett. I'm strong," _she told herself, clicking on the next iCarly webcast. Sam continued watching the iCarly webcasts until her eyes grew heavy. She eventually dozed off to sleep, with the sounds of hers and Carly's voices resonating from the computer.

"_And that's the proper way," "To clean your parents' laptop!"

* * *

_

"Samantha."

Sam jolted awake. She bolted upright, looking at the man now standing in front of her. Sam always saw herself as abnormally strong and fiercely resilient. But standing in front of this man made her feel small. Weak. Inferior.

"W-What are y-you doin' here?" Sam stuttered, looking up at the tall, towering man. She recognized his ugly mug in a split-second. The man stroked at his rugged facial hair and grinned evilly, eyeing the girl maliciously. "H-How did you get in here?"

"Don't y'worry, Samantha, yer still daddy's lil' girl," Richard's voice echoed, as the space around the two of them grew dark.

_A nightmare._

Sam gathered what little courage she had and barreled towards her father, determined to put him through the next wall. As expected of most of Sam's nightmares, Richard's presence was merely an illusion. She ran right into Richard and tumbled through him, as if he wasn't even there. As if he was just a hologram. Richard turned around, laughing his usual burly laugh. Somehow, it sounded bitter to Sam. She looked up to the so-called paternal figure and snarled at him.

"You're not real. This is just a dream." she spat, looking away. "I'll wake up and this'll just be another memory in the back of my mind."

Richard's blue eyes glowed like a demon's, his face starting to contort, looking more and more like the monster he was. "Then here's a memory for you," his voice now distorted, much like his demonic face. "Samantha- My face'll be the last y'all ev'r see. I _guarantee_ it."

Sam remembered those words well. It was the very last thing her father uttered to her before he was taken away and put behind bars.

* * *

This time Sam jolted awake, she placed her hand on her forehead, wiping away her cold sweat. Her heart beat a million times a minute and the vision of her demonic father was etched into her head.

"It was just a dream," she told herself, sighing deeply. Sam managed to calm herself down by repeatedly reminding herself that her dream is exactly what it was: A dream.

She looked around the small and cramped studio apartment and sighed. Although small and cramped, it still had a certain feeling of home when she was there. Maybe because Freddie was there with her. But being alone in this place, she couldn't help but feel caged.

* * *

Freddie massaged the sides of his temple before looking back to his computer screen, covered with numerous sentences and cryptology. He took a sip of his chai latte before going back and typing away at his computer like a super-hacker. He had gotten a large amount of work already done, but if he managed to finish the next pile of work early, he might be able to stay home with Sam for a few days to keep her company more.

Freddie treasured what little time he spent with Sam, but knew that every aching minute in the office meant more money towards cutting the deal with Richard. And cutting the deal with Richard meant Sam would once again have her mother.

Freddie wasn't an idiot. He could see the way Sam changed through high school. Her usual bound of energy, the name-calling and prank-pulling all came to an abrupt end after Richard was put behind bars and Pam was nowhere to be found. Even though they tried for months and months to find her or find someone that could find her, their search showed up with zero results and numerous dead ends.

Sam came to terms with her mother's disappearance but never really got over it. Even after the two started dating, Sam seemed a bit happier with someone there to hold her, but there was always this emptiness in her eyes. Freddie knew that he would never be able to fill the void that was Pam's love for her daughter.

Freddie looked at his watch and it read 11:47. He needed to wrap things up and hurry home. Working alone in that spacious office, in his cubicle, he felt trapped. He felt caged.

* * *

The next day, Freddie woke up before the sun rose and began to get ready. He had grown accustomed to waking up early and leaving for work. He made his way to the bathroom, preparing himself for another long day at the office. Freddie twisted the knob on the sink and quickly splashed a handful of water onto his face, waking him up from his grogginess.

Just then, a waking moan could be heard in the next room. Freddie peered his head from the bathroom and looked out to where the futon lay, to see his blonde beauty, shifting under the covers.

"Freddie?" Sam moaned, slowly sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "What time is it? Are you going to work already?"

Freddie decided to step out of the bathroom and greet Sam before having to leave. After all, she was awake now. "It's almost five. Go back to sleep-"

Sam looked over at the clock and turned to Freddie, who stood only in his shirt and boxers. "You've been going to work a helluva lot lately, Freddie. What's going on?"

Freddie tensed up a bit. The last thing he wanted to do was spill the beans about his recent conversations with Richard and the deal that was made between them. He quickly side-stepped the question, going back into the bathroom to get himself groomed. "I'm late for work- Let's talk tonight, after I get home, alright? I'll try to make it back early."

Sam pouted, still obviously suspicious of Freddie's recent behavior. Was he still even going to school? It seemed like all he was doing now was working. "Alright. I might be at the studio. Spencer asked me to draw some new stuff for the upcoming gallery."

Freddie hollered back a confirmation from the bathroom, just as Sam managed to doze back to sleep.

* * *

The bell attached to the door chimed as it was swung open. Spencer diverted his attention from his work to greet the person walking in.

"Hey, Sam. You here to work on some paintings?"

"You know it, Spence." Sam smiled back, ready to work. Sam found drawing and painting to be a great outlet to express herself and her emotions. And let's face it: It's far less illegal than setting various government-owned things on fire or hijacking a Fat Cake truck.

She decided to illustrate the emotions that she had been feeling lately. Art was all about emotion, so why not utilize her emotions into something that can put food on the table? She took out a fresh new canvas and a nice set of paints and began her piece.

Spencer walked into the room with two mugs of fresh coffee. He set them on a nearby table and gently gripped Sam's shoulder. "Hey. You've been working for a while," Spencer stated. "It's already nighttime."

Sam looked up from her painting and looked towards the window. The outside was now illuminated by streetlights and the moonlight. Where had the time gone? "How long as I painting for?"

Spencer looked at his wristwatch and gave a slight shrug. "Maybe 5 hours? You haven't had anything to eat. Want to hit a burger place or something?" Spencer asked, offering Sam her coffee.

Sam just shook her head, proceeding to take a sip of the joe. "No thanks. Freddie said he would try to get home early, so maybe I should be getting home. He did say he wanted to talk about something."

Suddenly, as if on cue, Sam's phone rang. She answered I quickly, happy to see Freddie's number displayed on the screen. But her happy face quickly went away as she heard the news from Freddie. Spencer saw the troubling look upon Sam's face and approached her. "Alright. No, I understand. I'll talk to you later, then." Sam hung up the phone as Spencer put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"He's staying late again?" Spencer asked. Sam just nodded silently, her eyes full of sadness. Spencer set his mug on the table and brought the small blonde into a friendly hug, comforting her.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, as if she didn't know what a hug was.

Spencer just grinned, looking down at Sam. "Just giving you a much-deserved hug. Besides, it looked like you needed one."

Sam then shared the same grin as Spencer, thankful that he was there for support. Especially with Carly absent. "Thanks, Spence. You always know how to make me feel better."

"Aw." Spencer brought Sam in for another hug, but this time something was different. As he pulled away and looked into Sam's eyes, he could tell there was something very different. It was no longer just a friendly hug. Sam looked up at Spencer with confused eyes, not exactly sure what was going to happen next. But her confused eyes turned into shocked eyes as Spencer leaned in for a kiss.

Just as Spencer's lips brushed up against Sam's own, she swiftly brought her hand across his face, slapping him away. "Spencer! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Spencer still looked a bit taken aback, either from the kiss or the slap or a combination of the two. He could not manage to utter any words. "Um..."

"You know that I'm with Freddie!"

Spencer's confused expression turned into a more angry one. He grimaced at the thought of Freddie. "I'm better than Freddie! I wouldn't just leave you alone at night, making you cry and all those other things he's doing to you." Spencer argued. "I wouldn't ignore you or neglect you! I would be there for you, to hold you in my arms!"

Sam looked at Spencer with shock and disgust, slamming the coffee mug onto the table before grabbing up her coat and storming out. She didn't hear Spencer calling out for her, so she didn't stop. She huffed briskly through the nighttime crowds, pushing her way towards home as quickly as possible. It wasn't until she pushed past the wrong guy, who didn't take kindly to her rude behavior. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him to get her attention.

"Watch where yer goin', lil' lady!" growled the man.

Sam took one look at the man and all the color from her face just left. "D-Dad?"

The man looked a bit surprised by the greeting, but upon closer inspection he recognized the girl. "Samantha?" the man said with a slight smile, almost relieved to see the girl.

Sam was now the one a bit surprised. It finally hit her. "... Uncle Carmine?"

"Well, who else woulddit be, silly girl?" Carmine laughed huskily, almost similar to Richard's own laugh.

"I thought you were my dad. You two _are_ twins, after all."

Carmine just nodded. "True, true. But still- it's good t'see ya, Sammy. I was gettin' a lil' worried 'bout you, girl."

Sam almost felt sick to her stomach, talking to her uncle. She didn't have too much of a problem with the man himself, but he just looked too much like her father. "Anyway, I'm in a rush to get home, Uncle. I'll see you around."

"Sure, sure."

* * *

Carmine watched Sam make her way down the sidewalk, blending in with the rest of the crowd. Carmine picked up a light grocery bag that he had previously placed on the ground and made his way back home to his own residence. As he strolled up to his abode he walked down a flight of stairs, opening the door to a basement-type room.

"Hoo, boy. You'll never guess who I ran into on m'way home. It was a bit'uva doozy, I'll tell you what." Carmine laughed, flipping on a single light and throwing the grocery bag onto a bare table. He looked across the basement at the lone person in the room, sitting on a dining chair in the dark, holding a family photo.

"W-Who?" the person coughed.

"Yer lil' girl." Carmine picked up a nearby flashlight and shined it towards the lone person. "She's the spittin' image of ya, Sis."

Tears rolled down the woman's face, as the flashlight illuminated just enough light for her to look at the family photo of herself with her two daughters. The chains around her wrists jangled as she brought the photo to her chest, clutching it tightly. She was so glad that her little girl was safe. That her girls weren't caged.

* * *

**Author's Note: Ah. Yes. That's right. She's alive.**


	7. Thoughts

**Author's Note: Wow. I've left this series unattended. The latest episode has the lit the fire in me to continue this. At least until what I had planned for the end. It deserves that much at least- A proper ending.**

**Anyway, this chapter is a little short, but I'm just going to dive right into the climax/ending from now on. Updates hopefully weekly?**

* * *

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Seven: Thoughts...

* * *

The room was in complete silence other than the sound of water dripping from the rusty pipes hanging from the ceiling. The stagnant water collected itself on the floor of the dark basement.

Pam leaned against a wall as she tucked her family photo into her pants pocket. She stumbled away from the wall to the lone dining chair sitting in the middle of the room. There was a medium-sized wool blanket thrown about carelessly over the back of the chair. Pam snatched it up and tossed it towards the corner of the room, where a small and ratty futon mattress lay.

Pam knelt down carefully, placing herself gently onto the lumpy mattress and wrapping herself within the wool blanket. She coughed harshly into the mattress, staining it with speckles of deep red. Pam cursed under her breath, looking at the new stain on the mattress. She blinked and soon it was difficult to tell the new stains from the old stains. How long had she been cooped up in this room?

"... C-Carmine," Pam tried calling out, her voice raspy and squeaky. She had rarely talked or called out to anyone. She learned very early on that her voice could not be heard from beyond the basement door. Pam sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth. Her chest hurt whenever she breathed. Definitely not a good sign. Not to mention the coughing up of the blood. How long could she last, being imprisoned to that basement?

Pam closed her eyes as she tried to rest her weary body on the lumpy mattress. At least there was one bit of good news- Sam was alive and well. Nothing bad had happened to her. Pam only wished good things for her children, hoping that they were happy and safe.

A loud banging noise suddenly interrupted Pam's happy thoughts. The basement door slammed open, letting the light into the stuffy and dark room. The opener of the door, a disgruntled-looking man, stumbled down the stairs carelessly reeking of a strong alcohol.

"Y'smell disgussnng," the man mumbled, his words coming out slurred. Pam covered her nose with her forearm, glaring at the man before her.

"T-That's _you_, Carmine..." Pam whispered harshly, a tone of anger in her voice. Although Pam did not show any sign of fear to her so-called "brother", her voice had a slight stutter to it. Almost as if she were shivering.

"Well, I f'rgot t'get food fer y'again," Carmine grumbled, scratching at the rugged stubble on his face. "Mm'be t'marrow."

Pam just shifted slowly in her mattress, facing away from Carmine. She did not move or speak until Carmine walked back up the stairs, retreating to the pleasures of the outside-world.

* * *

Sam sighed.

After leaving in such a hurry the night before- after Spencer had kissed her, Sam had plenty on her mind. Mainly the thing that bugged her the most was what Spencer had said.

"_I'm better than Freddie! I wouldn't just leave you alone at night, making you cry and all those other things he's doing to you."_

Sam had to agree- Freddie had been awfully distant and never seemed to be around at all anymore. The times they actually got to see each other, Freddie was either preoccupied or too tired to really give his full attention to anything.

Maybe he was cheating on her. The thought entered Sam's mind but she remembered something Freddie had said to the night she found out about her father's escape.

"_I will _never_ leave you."_

But then again, Freddie had already lied to Sam before. Who's to say he wouldn't lie again?

But then again-again, Sam thought that Freddie deserved the benefit of the doubt.

* * *

Freddie grinned ear to ear. He had received his check for the week and after all the projects he'd completed over the past couple of days, working nonstop, he received a hefty-sized check from his boss. He had enough for the stupid deal with Richard. Not only that, he was two days early! This called for a celebration.

But Freddie was celebrating far too soon. His PearPhone began ringing and he answered the unknown call.  
_"Fred. Y'got the money? If y'do, I'm thinking let's make the trade t'night."_

"Tonight? Why?"

"_Don't get too nosy. Tell me if y'got the money r'not."_

"I got it."

"_Good."_

There was a long pause.

"... You gonna tell me where we're meeting up? I want this to go as smoothly as possible. No funny business."

"_I've actually been havin' second thoughts."_

"Thoughts about what?"

Richard chortled._"Well, Benson. T'be honest with you, I hate yer guts. I hate t'fact that ye'r together wit my daughter. I want you t'break it off wit'er."_

Freddie couldn't believe his ears. "What?"

"_Y'heard me. Choose which one's more 'mportant, Fred. A girl wit'out her one and only mother or a girl wit'out you, a boyfriend that she could easily replace."_

Freddie cursed into the phone and hung up. Freddie groaned and scratched at his skull, running his fingers through his hair. Break up with Sam? There's no way in hell he'd leave her. After he promised he would never leave her? He's already lying to her about her dad, now he'd lie about _that_ too? Geez.

Maybe Freddie should just tell her the truth.

The phone rang annoyingly again. From unknown number. Freddie ignored the call, sending it straight to voicemail.

* * *

Sam lay on the futon, looking up at the ceiling. The rays from the afternoon sun enriched her skin with warmth. The warmth reminded her of a feeling she was beginning to forget. She sighed as she thought about Freddie. She wanted to see him. She searched for her phone and began to dial when the mail slot was quickly jostled open and closed. Sam threw the phone to the side and retrieved the mail.

Sam looked at the mail curiously. She could only remember her household receiving pink envelopes in the mail, but that was when she was living with her mother and they didn't pay the water bill. On the envelope were bold red letters stamped, "OVERDUE".

"Overdue?" Sam said out loud to herself. _Odd. _With all the hours Freddie were working, you'd think they'd have more money than they needed, not not enough of it. She ripped open the envelope without hesitation. She scanned over the papers and tried to make heads or tails of what it was saying.

* * *

Freddie put his phone on vibrate as he lay his head on his desk.

_Break up with Sam?_ How was that even possible? Sam had been the love of his life ever since high school. He unlocked his phone to view the background picture of Sam. He noticed a message on his phone, "4 missed calls". He looked through it and saw most of it was unknown numbers but one in particular stood out to him.

He quickly put the phone to his ear, waiting for an answer.

"_Hey."_

"Hey, you called?" Freddie asked, slightly worried. "Something wrong?"

"_I don't know, Freddie. You tell me."_

Uh oh. Sam sounded angry. Not just regular angry, but a sort of "I'm-going-to-kick-your-ass" kind of angry.

"Um, no, nothing's wrong over here..." Freddie replied back, very careful with his wording. He knew that women were complicated creatures and even the slightest of bad wording could hand him his one-way ticket to hell.

"_We got an overdue bill notice in the mail today. You didn't pay this month's electricity bill."_

Freddie sighed. How exactly was he going to explain this? He wasn't an idiot and he knew Sam wasn't one either. It wouldn't make sense for a man who's been working literally 24/7 to have no money to pay the bills. "Yeah. I've, uh, been busy at work and must've overlooked it. Don't worry, I'll pay it soon."

"_Soon? As in, you can't pay now?"_

Dammit. How the hell could one word mess this up? "Well, not exactly, I don't have the, uh, necessary funds to, uhm..."

"_I want you to come home. Like, now."_

"Why?"

"_So I can see your lying face when you talk to me. I can tell when you're lying, Benson."_ With that, she hung up.

Freddie sighed, trying to figure out what he should do next.

* * *

"Hey! Git'up!"

Pam received a swift kick to her side and all the air in her lungs escaped in a single beat. She coughed violently, trying to catch her breath.

"Richard called- Guess what?"


	8. Brought to Light

**Author's Note: Hey, remember when I said in the description this was going to be a Sam-centric fic? Well, when the hell did it become a Freddie-centric fic? haha**

* * *

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Eight: Brought to Light

* * *

Freddie slowly opened the door to his apartment and peered inside before stepping in.

"I found this, too." Sam said as soon as Freddie entered. She held up another envelope with the words "PAST DUE" printed on the front. "You didn't pay our rent either?"

Freddie grabbed the mail from Sam's hand and threw it to the side. "Sam, I don't want you to worry about stuff like this. I'm handling it."

Sam took a step away from Freddie and shook her head, "No, Freddie. If you were handling this, the bills would be paid. If you were handling this, we wouldn't be behind on our rent. If you were handling this, we would have money!"

Freddie tried to speak back but no words came out. What Sam had said was the truth and nothing but the truth. "What do you want me to say, Sam?"

Sam thought for a second. The number one question on her mind rolled off her tongue, "Where did all the money go?"

"I still have it. I just haven't paid yet."

"Why?"

"I can't give you that answer yet, Sam. I just... I just need you to trust me right now."

"Freddie, I've _been_ trusting you. My trust and patience are both running out."

Freddie was silent for a moment.

Sam just shook her head once more, tears forming in her eyes. "Freddie, I don't know what's going on anymore," she started. "You're never home, you claim you're working but we don't have money and you aren't paying the bills- Have you even been to your classes?"

Freddie had totally forgotten about school this entire time. He was so focused on reuniting Sam with her mother he hadn't even realized. "I haven't. I sort of, forgot about school."

"Freddie Benson? Forget about school? That doesn't sound like you, Freddie." Sam replied. "Tell me the truth; What have you been doing?"

"Working! I've been working, Sam. That's not a lie." Freddie defended, adamantly.

Sam escalated the argument, stepping closer to Freddie. "Then why haven't you paid the bills? The rent?"

Freddie tried to search for an answer. What reason would a man work his ass off every day and not have the money to pay for his living costs? He tried to think of a good answer but he took too long. He looked up at Sam, tears streaming down her face as she smiled bitterly.

"God, Freddie- Just tell me what you've been doing with the money because right now I'm just picturing the worst-case scenario."

"Worst-case scenario? Like what?" Freddie questioned, worried that maybe Sam was smart enough to catch onto what he was doing behind her back.

"I don't know, Freddie. First I thought you weren't really working and you were just fucking around with some friends or you threw your life away or something..."

"I didn't! I really am working."

"Yeah, you say that. So then where's the money? I keep thinking maybe you used all that money because you spent it on drugs or alcohol or something. But you don't really seem like the type that resorts to drug and alcohol abuse." Sam reasoned, half talking to herself.

"I'm not addicted to drugs or alcohol, Sam."

Sam wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked at Freddie with all seriousness. "Are you cheating on me, then?"

Freddie couldn't believe his ears. His day was filled with more and more disbelief by the minute. "God, no! I'm not cheating on you, Sam. You're my one and only- I would never cheat on you. Why would you even think that?"

Sam shrugged her shoulders, running her hands through her long blonde hair out of frustration. "I don't know- I thought maybe you'd been spending all the money on your new girlfriend or something."

Freddie tried to come up with a good enough story, but still his mind was free of good ideas. It wouldn't have mattered either way because his thought process was interrupted by a loud buzzing from his pocket. He fished out his phone and saw that the caller was unknown.

He quickly answered it.

"Hello?"

"_I still want my money, Fred."_

"I have it."

"_Good."_

"Freddie, who are you talking to?" Sam asked, trying to listen in on the conversation. Freddie took a step back, worriedly looking at Sam. He had to come up with a story. _Quick._

"Um, nobody. Just someone from, uh, work."

"_Heh- She's getting' suspicis' ain't she?"_

Freddie groaned, looking back between the phone and Sam. "Why are you calling?"

"_Never mind 'bout that bid'ness wit' breakin' up wit' my daughter. I just want my money."_

"Let me know later- I have to deal with Sam." Freddie quickly said, before hanging up.

Sam scoffed. "I have to _deal_ with Sam? Like I'm a problem?"

Freddie mentally kicked himself- Wonderful choice of words. "I didn't mean it like that, Sam. I meant-"

"No, Freddie. I think I've heard enough. I'm not an idiot. I've fully understood what's going on here."

Freddie grabbed Sam's hand out of desperation and pulled her closer to him. "Sam, please! Please believe me when I tell you I'm not cheating on you."

"Then tell me what's going on!"

Freddie swallowed a large lump in his throat. He would have to tell her sometime. Now couldn't be any worse a time. "I wasn't talking on the phone with a girl."  
"So who was it? Is it someone you owe money to?"

"Sort of, I guess. Not exactly-" Freddie started slowly, trying to draw out the moment as long as possible. "I was talking to Richard."

"Richard who?"

"Your father, Richard." Freddie could see all the color leave Sam's face. The very mention of her father no doubt scared her.

Sam tried to wrap her finger around that statement but couldn't understand. "Why were you talking to my dad?"

"He called me up about two weeks ago and told me he would let you see your mom again if I gave him a thousand dollars," Freddie explained. "That's why I was working so damn much. Also, unrelated, but my boss thinks you're pregnant. It's not like I could've told him the real reason why I needed the money."

"My mom is alive? How do you know?"  
"He told me."

Sam scoffed. "And you believed him? Freddie, my dad is a lying scumbag. Even hell is too good for him! My mom died and I've accepted that- You need to accept it, too, Freddie. Stop chasing after ghosts."

"Sam, admit it- You've been different ever since your mom disappeared. I love you for who you are, but I miss the girl that would always smile at the stupidest of things with me." Freddie said quietly. "I just wanted to make you happy."

Sam sighed as she looked into Freddie's caring eyes. She rose her hand to his cheek and tears once again formed in her eyes. She took her hand and slapped him across the face, filling his eyes with shock. "You idiot!" Sam's eyes were full of anger and her face was beginning to turn red. "_You_ make me happy, Freddie! Not being reunited with my dead mom!"

"I can't give you the kind of love a mother can give, though!" Freddie said back, a hand to his slapped cheek. "You say you put the past behind you but I know you still think about her all the time and lately it's created a strain on you."

"Do you realize the situation you've put us in, Freddie? What if you gave the money to him and he was lying the whole time? The only thing that would've changed is we wouldn't have a home."

Freddie was a little offended. He had at least the decency and smarts to have a back-up plan. "I would've worked- Gotten a loan- Something! I'm not an idiot, Sam."  
"You sure seem like one to me."

"Well, ex-_cuse_ me! At least I'm smart enough that I got an actual job instead of just painting depressing pictures and selling them to hippies for chump change!"

Sam's eyes widened and she saw Freddie's do the same as soon as he finished what he was saying. A sort of chuckle-slash-sob escaped her lips.

"Sam, I didn't mean that- What I meant was-"

"No, I get it, Freddie!" Sam interrupted. She pushed Freddie to the side to get to the front door. "You think I'm just some idiot blonde with no smarts. You think you're smarter than everyone else, especially me, don't you?"  
Freddie shook his head. "No, Sam- I don't think that-"  
Sam ignored Freddie. The only thing she could hear were the echoes of his hurtful words. "Well, screw you, Freddie. I... I hate you!" she shouted, slamming the door shut and running down the hall.

"Sam!" Freddie chased after her, "Where are you going, Sam?"

"Home!" she yelled back, from the distance. Freddie stopped in his tracks and decided she needed to be alone. It was better.

* * *

Sam ran out of the apartment complex and down the street. She continued running until she got to the main intersection and saw the bus pulling up to the bus stop. She quickly got in, fished three dollars from her pocket and gave it to the driver. In less than an hour, she would be home.


	9. A Place Called Home

**Author's Note: This story feels longer than it needs to be... I just kinda want it to end already. Gah.**

* * *

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Nine: A Place Called Home

* * *

Sam stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the beat-up and rickety old house- The home in which she grew up. She walked past the tall weeds and up the front porch, slowly turning the squeaky doorknob. As she entered, she saw everything from the floors, the walls, and the counter tops covered in a thick coat of dust.

Sam couldn't even remember the last time she came back to this place. She figured Melanie never decided to come back either, even though the deed was technically in their names. She stood in the foyer and shifted her view to the foot of the staircase. She remembered back all those years ago on that one night. The night she came back to confront her father.

She remembered entering the house with her father waiting for her on the stairs. She remembered the swift swing he took to her side with that metal baseball bat. Sam placed her hand to her side and inhaled deeply. Her ribs had healed, but it was painful to remember.

Sam moved towards the window and saw that there was still some shattered pieces of glass on the floor. Had nobody really cleaned the house after that night? Sam walked up the squeaky stairs slowly, remembering the portraits that used to hang on the wall. She couldn't even remember where those photos were now. Probably with Melanie somewhere.

This house didn't seem like her old home in the least. The warmth of family was no longer present. This wasn't her home.

Sam walked into her bedroom and saw most of its contents had been moved out long ago. In the room stood only an empty dresser, a bare bed frame, and a purple ceramic bowl that read "Frothy". She remembered the last time she was in this room, collecting her things to move to her foster parent's place. Forced to live somewhere else, forced to call somewhere unfamiliar "home".

* * *

Freddie groaned.

"I'll have anuhzer, barkeep..." he slurred, pouring himself a cup of Bourbon, which most definitely wasn't his first. He sighed as he fumbled for his phone and dialed some numbers. The line rang a few times before it picked up.

"_Hey, what's up?"_

"... C-Carly," Freddie spoke slowly, careful not to trip over his words, "I... I did somethin' shh-tupid."

"_Are you drunk, Freddie? How'd you even get alcohol? What happened?"_

"It wuz... It wuz _sooo_ shh-tupid, Carl-ayy..." Suddenly, his phone beeped. Freddie looked at the display screen through fuzzy eyes and saw he had another incoming call. "L-lemme call you back, Carlyey.."

"_Freddie? Freddie, what'd you do?-" _Freddie ignored Carly as he _blipped_ his phone.

"Yeller?"

"_Fred. It's me."_

"Oh. _You._ Whadd'ya want witthh me...? H-Haven't you roooined my life enough?"

"_I saw Sammy back at the house..."_

"H-How?"

Richard laughed. _"I got eyes e'erywhere, boy."_

"D-Don't hurt her..."

"_I won't. You did good, boy. Breakin' it off wit' her..."_

"S-Shut up. Let Pam g-go."

"_You got the money? In cash?"_

Freddie just nodded, his head feeling very heavy.

"_Hey- You listenin'? Y'got my money or what?"_

Freddie moaned, forgetting for a second that Richard couldn't hear him nodding. "Yeahh..."

"_Put it in a bag and then throw it out the window."_

Freddie clumsily rummaged through his briefcase and pulled out a hefty wad of money sealed in a fat envelope. He had gone to the bank right after leaving work so he could make the transfer as easily as possible. "Wait. You're outside?" Freddie stumbled towards the fire escape and looked over. The cop car that had been parked in the same spot was no longer there. He looked drowsily for a man resembling Richard but couldn't see straight.

"_Throw the money NOW."_

"W-Wait..."

"_Throw it now, Fred- Or Pam dies!"_

Freddie hastily threw the envelope out the window and heard a light _thump_ as it hit the floor. "Richard?" he called out, both into the phone and out the window. No answer. "Richard?" Freddie tried to look to the street to see where the money had landed, but everything was spinning.

Just then, Freddie heard a clattering. _"All here, Fred. Sammy will see her mother soon... In hell!"_ Richard cackled before hanging up abruptly.

Freddie quickly sobered up. He was still intoxicated but knew he had to make sure Sam was alright.

* * *

Sam went back into the living room and plopped herself on the old couch. The dust plumed up and caused her to cough. Then she heard an echoing cough. Sam coughed again- This time no echo.

Suddenly, the door knocked loudly followed by a loud _thud._

"Who's there?" Sam called out, making her way towards the door cautiously. She heard heavy footsteps leaving the front porch followed by the sounds of distant sirens growing closer. She quickly swung open the door and saw a fragile woman lying ragged on her front porch. "Mom!" Sam choked, falling to her knees. Pam looked so hurt and broken Sam was afraid a hug might crush her.

The sirens quickly grew near and policemen arrived on the scene. "He ran through the back streets! Go after him!" A few policemen hurried up to the front porch and immediately called for paramedics.

"Mom..."

Pam, scared and shaken, looked up at her daughter and the dusty home behind her before contently sighing.

* * *

It seemed so dark out even though it was the middle of the day. Almost like it was so dark you couldn't see your own hand in front of your face.

Sirens echoed and flashing lights made everything seem all the more surreal.

"Sam..." Freddie whispered. He wished he could've been closer to see the look of happiness on Sam's face. He could hear Sam's voice echoing in his memory- _"Freddie, what'd you do?"_

Eh? Maybe it wasn't Sam's voice. Sounded a lot more like Carly's voice.

"Freddie! Freddie!"  
Freddie fully opened his eyes and took in his sights and surroundings. "C-Carly?" Freddie slurred, in a drunken daze- He noticed his brunette best friend crouching over his body. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest- Similar to that of a bullet wound. He tried to lurch forward but the motion only made him sick to his stomach and he sprawled back to the floor.

"Wha-"

"Son, what's your name?" A paramedic that was either already there or poofed there all of a sudden spoke up. Freddie peeked his eyes open for a second and realized he was nowhere near Sam's house nor had he even made it out of Shoreline. "Son?"

"N-No..." Freddie managed to gasp out, as he came to a realization.  
"Son, do you remember what happened?"

Freddie forced his eyes open and looked past the paramedics, the police, and their cars. He saw Spencer standing on the corner looking worried- Freddie recognized the street corner. Spencer's art studio was only a block away from here.

Freddie had barely left home.

* * *

**Author's Note: Relatively short chapter, but I was busy this past weekend as I attended an anime convention (yes I'm a nerd- No surprise there...) I am going to try everything in my power to keep my word and update weekly, at the latest by Saturday of the week. I'll typically update on a Thursday or Friday, though.  
**

**Thanks for always reading and reviewing :) **


	10. Lots of Words

**Author's Note:** Slightly late update. I apologize. I named this chapter "lots of words" because it was originally "untitled" because I couldn't think of a chapter name. But seriously, who cares about title names? As far as anyone cares, this is "Chapter Ten".

* * *

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Ten: Lots of Words.

* * *

The jumble of voices in the distance. The sound of a slight sob. A faint beeping.

Freddie opened his eyes slowly and let out a deep sigh. _"Back here again..."_ He looked around and noticed his mother and the Shay siblings gathered around his bed. "Hey guys," Freddie croaked, smiling weakly.

"Freddie! Thank goodness you're alright!" cried Ms. Benson as she glomped Freddie's sore body. She sobbed tears into Freddie's hospital gown but was really just glad he was alright.

"Oh gosh, Mom- I'm fine... I think." Freddie felt around his torso and felt bruises here and there. He tried to shift his head to look around the room but realized he couldn't. "What's this?" he motioned with his eyes, trying to look down.

"A neck brace, dear." Ms. Benson explained. "You suffered some whiplash from the accident."

"Accident?"

Ms. Benson stepped back as she gestured to Carly and Spencer. "You were driving your car and ended up crashing. You were only a few blocks away from Spencer's art gallery and Carly was there so the two called me after the paramedics took you away."

Freddie scratched at his neck brace. "When can I take it off? It's really uncomfortable."

"Doctors say probably tomorrow- You need to do exercises and physical therapy for it to heal correctly." Carly spoke. She took this opportunity of speech to question Freddie. "Freddie, what was going through your head when you did all this?"

"Well-"

Carly cut Freddie off. "The police are threatening to throw you in jail, Freddie!"

"J-Jail?" Freddie stuttered.

"The cops said it's either jail time, fines, or community service or even a combination of the three. They also said as soon as you're conscious and coherent that you need to start talking."

Freddie breathed in deep and let out a heavy sigh. "I was drunk."  
"Well, obviously," chuckled Spencer. "You were doing some pretty heavy drunken mumbling even when the paramedics were trying to get you out of your car..."

Carly stopped her joking brother. "Not now, Spencer."

Spencer ignored Carly's warning. "No, seriously- You kept asking for Sam and rambling on and on, telling her to 'come back'."

Freddie's eyes grew wide as he realized what Spencer was talking about. "Sam! Where's Sam?" He panicked as he looked aimlessly around the room but did not see anyone else in the room.

"She's not answering her phone." Carly responded. "I tried calling her dozens of times but it goes to voicemail each time. I wanted to ask you about that, too- Where is Sam and why isn't she answering her phone? You might've been drunk but there's a reason why you were calling for Sam to 'come back'."

Freddie groaned out of frustration. He would have to tell them eventually- Even if he didn't he knew Sam would. He started his story from the beginning, "Since I was 17 I've been meeting Richard at the King County Prison, asking about Sam's mom's whereabouts. He broke out of prison and well..."

* * *

"Sam!" the double doors of the hospital slammed open as Sam's twin sister bolted through. She quickly ran to Sam and pulled her into a tight embrace. "I got on the earliest flight available as soon as I heard... How is she?"

"ICU," Sam answered.

Melanie let go of her sister and looked into her eyes. They seemed sad but at the same time not quite devastated. Almost like she wasn't really there. "And how are you doing, Sam? I haven't seen you in a while..."

Sam just shrugged her shoulders and half-chuckled. "Fine, I guess. Feels like my life is spiraling out of control, though."

Melanie just looked longingly at her twin sister and pulled her by the hand. "C'mon. Let's go catch up in the cafeteria."

"Well... I _do_ like to eat."

* * *

Melanie walked hand-in-hand with her sister, slowly making their way

"So what's been up with you, Sammy?" Melanie asked endearingly.

Sam just half-shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing where to start. There was so many things she could tell her sister about, so many were on her mind.

"How's school?" Melanie tried to ask, hoping to start a conversation.

"Fine."

"And how's work?" Melanie tried again, hoping to open her sister up.

"Fine."

"How about Freddie?"

Sam stopped and tried to think of an adequate word to sum up her current relationship status with Freddie. "Not fine."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, to sum everything up: Freddie made a deal with our father that he would trade a bunch of money for the location of our supposedly-not-dead mother. He ended up lying to me about it and didn't pay a bunch of the bills."

Melanie stopped in her tracks and blinked as she stared blankly. She tried to grasp the concept of the story Sam was telling her. "So the only reason why Mom showed up on your doorstep was because Freddie gave our dad some money?"

Sam nodded. The both were about to start their pace again but Sam stopped.

Melanie looked back at her sister with concerned eyes. "What's wrong, Sam?"

"Sam," a male voice called out from down the hall.

"No," Sam started to say, taking a few steps back.  
"Sam, wait," the man walked up to the two sisters as Sam slunk behind her sister, slightly afraid. "I wanted to apologize for the other night."

"What did Spencer do to you the other night?" Melanie interrupted, looking back and forth between the older man and Sam.

Sam glared at Spencer, remembering what happened the other night at the art studio. "He kissed me. When I was at the art studio painting."

Spencer shook his head, "I'm _sorry_, Sam. I... I let my feelings get the best of me."  
"What are you doing here anyway?" Sam spat.

"You mean you didn't hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Freddie got into an accident. He's here in the hospital."

* * *

"Yeah, he called after I threw the money out and then he threatened to go after Sam and her mom." Freddie stated.  
"So he was near your apartment?" the police officer holding a voice recorder asked, as another took down notes.

"I assume so. He took the money and told me it was all there, so he must've been there to count it. Did he show up at Sam's old place? I called the police but I don't know what happened..."

"I talked with the officers that responded to your call," the officer started saying. "He ran off and he managed to escape."

Freddie looked disappointed. "Oh."  
"But we did manage to get Pam Puckett out of-" A knock at the door disturbed the questioning and the officers looked between each other.

"Freddie?" Spencer called out, peeking his head through the door. "I got someone that wants to see you."

"We'll probably have more questions and information for you once we figure everything out," the officer said, as he led his partner outside. Spencer entered with the two sisters following behind.

"S-Sam..." Freddie spoke out, glad to see the blonde. "Are you alright? You aren't hurt, are you?"

Sam shook her head and spoke softly, "No, I'm not hurt. _You_ look like you're hurting, though."

Freddie smiled coyly tried to shrug his shoulders. "I'm doing alright. It's not like I got shot again."

Sam smiled out of relief and put her hand on top of Freddie's. "You idiot," she said softly, her smile still lingering.

"I'm just glad you're alright. So was all my effort even worth it? Did Richard keep his end of the deal?" Freddie asked. "Your mom- Is she..?"

Sam smiled and sighed. "She's doing alright for now, I guess. The doctors are running tests but she's in ICU right now. They don't know exactly what's wrong with her yet."

* * *

**Author's Note:** cutting this chapter a little short, I figure I should give you guys SOMETHING before I put this off for another week...

Sorry for the extended wait but I've been writing out the story and it took me three weeks but I finally settled on an ending (I had multiple choices for the ending I wanted), and I think you guys are gonna like the ending. :)

Just a heads up, but there will probably be about two or three (possibly four) more chapters then it's THE END (dun dun dun...)

as always, thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing; your kind words mean alot to me :)


	11. Alright

**Author's Note:** There is so much wrong with this story I want to change but am too lazy to go back and change now. /oh well.

* * *

Title: My Hate Isn't Hate (Your Love Isn't Love Sequel)

Chapter Eleven: Alright

* * *

Freddie pulled his arm into his sleeve, careful not to strain his muscles. He groaned painfully as he proved unsuccessful. His sides hurt with a jolting pain- - He exhaled shakily as he realized he had only put on half his button-down shirt.

"Need some help with that?"

Freddie turned around to see Sam standing in the doorway, with a smug look painted on her face. He smiled as he lay eyes on her, glad to see she was doing alright. "Sam."

"That's my name, don't wear it out," she replied back wittily, as she neared to help Freddie put his shirt on. "How're you feelin'?"

"... I'm okay. Been better, I guess."

Sam started buttoning Freddie's shirt but stopped midway as she looked at a familiar mark on his torso. She ran her fingers across the mark, feeling the jagged scar.

Freddie smiled sadly at the blonde as he wrapped his arms around her small waist. He placed his hand on her back and felt for a similar scar.

Sam looked up into Freddie's eyes as Freddie gazed back down into hers. Freddie slowly brought himself closer to Sam, his eyes averting to her lips.

"Knock knock~!" chimed a cheery Marissa Benson, entering through the door. The two quickly separated themselves and turned a light shade of pink. "Oh my, was I interrupting something?"

"Mom..." Freddie groaned, blushing even more furiously. "Why are you here? I told you I would be fine going home by myself."

"Don't be absurd, Freddie!" Ms. Benson proclaimed, rushing over to her son and buttoning his shirt the rest of the way for him. "I just_ had_ to make sure you got home alright. Now Samantha, I trust you have the capabilities to nurse my little Freddie here back to health?"

Sam smirked, "No problem, Ms. Benson. Carls and Mel both said they would stick around Shoreline for a little while anyway. So it's not like I won't have any help."

"That sounds good." Ms. Benson said, gathering up Freddie's things. "I'll drive the two of you back to your apartment then- - The doctors already said you could check out of the hospital."

"- - Actually, I'm going to stay here in the hospital," Sam spoke up. "My sister's still out running her errands and I don't want to leave my mom alone."

"Oh, that's right... Your mother is at the hospital as well. How is she doing, dear?" Ms. Benson asked, slightly concerned.

Sam shrugged, unsure of the answer to give. "Not good, I guess. She's still sick."

"I'll come back once I drop my stuff off at home." Freddie started to say. "I don't want you to wait alone."

"No, you're still recovering... Stay home, Freddie. Mel's gonna come back in a few anyway, so I'll just come home after- - It's alright."

Freddie stopped and examined Sam's facial expression, gauging whether or not she was being honest.

"Freddie... _I'm fine._" she smiled to reassure him.

Freddie smiled back, deciding to submit to Sam's decision. "Alright. Just call me if you need anything."

* * *

"Are you _sure_ you're alright?"

"For the ten-thousandth time, Mom- -_ I'm fine!_" Freddie yelled, from the futon. He had an ice chest full of drinks and sandwiches located directly next to him, along with various books and his laptop all within reach, but Ms. Benson still insisted there was something missing. She wanted to make sure her Freddie had everything that he might've needed while left alone.

"I just don't want you to strain yourself, Freddie. What if you accidentally fall while going to the bathroom and you tear one of your stitches open?" Ms. Benson complained.

Freddie gave his mother a "seriously?" type of look and shook his head. "Mom, I don't even have stitches to rip! The worse that could happen to me is that I overeat from all the sandwiches. Now seriously- - I'm fine. Sam's going to be home in a little while and we'll eat the sandwiches for dinner and then go to sleep... Alright?"

Ms. Benson sighed, defeated. "Alright, Freddie. Just... Keep your phone close to you so if you do happen to get in trouble- - you can call me and I'll rush right over, alright?"

Freddie simply nodded, showing his mother his cell phone. "I have my charger too, so you don't need to worry about the battery dying."

"Oh, alright..." Ms. Benson started to say, but suddenly stopped and gasped as if realizing something. "Oh! I almost forgot completely! Freddie, I have some painkillers for you to take. The doctor prescribed them to you," Ms. Benson took out a small orange medicine bottle with a dozen or so pills contained inside. "Take one now so you can sleep peacefully and pain-free tonight. But they're strong and they might make you a litle drowsy..." Ms. Benson warned, handing the bottle to Freddie.

"Okay, look- -" Freddie said, opening the bottle and dropping one of the small pills into his hand, "I'll take the meds. Can you please go home now and stop worrying so much about me?" Freddie downed the pill followed by a sip of water.

Ms. Benson finally left Freddie alone in peace, without having to deal with the stress from his embarrassing mother.

Freddie sighed a deep sigh of relief as he laid back into his futon mattress. He had a pretty rough week but it was all starting to pay off. Sure, he almost lost Sam and the whole deal with Richard could've easily been a ruse and he could've potentially lost a lot of money... But he didn't lose Sam and it wasn't a ruse- - Sam was back with her mother, safe and sound, and Richard was nowhere to be seen or heard from.

Freddie turned on the television and stared blankly as he flipped through the channels. There wasn't really anything on TV and Freddie didn't really like sitting in the same place for so long. He wanted something to do.

He glanced over at his laptop and thought about maybe surfing the web or catching up on lost time at work or school, but didn't really want to cloud his mind with even more thoughts. So he tried just the opposite: He closed his eyes and slowly inhaled in a deep breath.

As he exhaled, the only thing that came to his mind was the well-being of Sam. Freddie still desperately wanted Sam to be safe. Sure, she was now happy knowing that her mother was not dead this entire time and having been reunited with her, but the threat that was Richard was still lurking somewhere in the shadows of some smelly dump.

Freddie opened his eyes and looked up at the rotating ceiling fan. "Knowing that guy... He'll be up to something soon."

Suddenly Freddie's phone buzzed up an annoying storm. He almost didn't attempt to make a connection with the buzzing device- - What if it were Richard, calling to make more trouble? He slowly reached for it, turning it over to look at the caller screen.

The big blue eyes of a certain "blonde-headed demon" gleamed back at him. _Sam.  
_Freddie quickly answered.

"Hey, what's up?" he answered, half-casual and half-concerned. "Everything alright?'

"Y-Yeah," Sam replied back, almost off-guard. "Did you get home okay? Your mom didn't accidentally suffocate you with her motherly love, did she?" Sam joked.

Freddie laughed, "No, she made some sandwiches and then left after making sure I had enough to keep me alive and entertained for the next millennium... I'm just chilling out on the futon right now."

"Alright. Mel called to say she was coming back soon so I'll probably be back within an hour or so.

"Mmkay, call if anything comes up. I might take a quick nap." Freddie said, barely containing a yawn.

"Just don't do something that would get you more hurt than you already are," warned Sam, before hanging up.

Freddie placed his phone on the futon as he laid down and shifted into a comfortable position. He opened his mouth to yawn, this time a deep yawn that brought slight tears to his eyes. "Geez, these pills really do make me drowsy..."

* * *

Freddie drowsily fluttered his eyes open.

"Sam?" he called out, almost instinctively. He slowly sat up and looked around the room. Everything was exactly the same when he had fallen asleep. "Oh... Must've just dozed off for a little while..." Freddie said to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it to check the time.

_8 missed calls?_

Freddie looked at the time; He had been asleep for a few good hours without even realizing it. He went through his missed calls and saw most of them from Sam, a few from Carly's and Melanie's phones. Freddie cursed under his breath as he immediately called back the blonde. The person on the other side of the line picked up almost instantaneously. "Sam?" Freddie called out urgently, as soon as he realized the ringing had stopped.

"Nope, she's not here right now," the person on the other end of the line started to say.

Freddie was a little surprised to not hear Sam on the other end. "Carly? What's going on? Where's Sam?"

"Talking to some doctors."

"Why? What happened? Is Sam's mom alright?"

There was a long pause followed what Freddie assumed was a held-back sob.

"Carly? Carly, tell me what happened- What's wrong?"

"She passed away, Freddie. Sam's mom is gone."

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter is entitled "Alright" because I used it 12 times in this chapter. That means for every (about) twelve words, I also include the word "alright" (too bad this isn't chapter 12; haha)

I need a wider vocabulary. I have a feeling buying a thesaurus just won't cut it either.


End file.
