


iCan't Find My Way Home

by SilentDreamsxx



Category: iCarly
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-12
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2015-05-27 18:54:39
Rating: T
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,415
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7377691/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1299391/SilentDreamsxx
Summary: The first time he came through my window was a complete accident, though I didn't find that out until much later. I didn't know it then – I don't think he knew it either – but, he saved me that night. One simple mistake that forever changed my life.





	1. Part 1

Okay! So this is just a three-shot (or a three part one shot... In this Freddie never met Sam. And they all will seem out of character, I suppose. But, I believe you all will still really like it. But then again - I am biased. So enjoy and don't forget to review!  
>Disclaimer: Don't own iCarly. Wish I did though...<p>

"**Maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves." – Chuck Palahniuk  
><strong>

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><p>The first time he came through my window was a complete accident, though I didn't find that out until much later. I didn't know it then – I don't think he knew it either – but, he saved me that night. One simple mistake that forever changed my life.<p>

There was a shuffling outside. A branch smacked my open window. I ignored it and threw another tissue in the trashcan. It missed just like the twelve others tissues surrounding the metal basket. I surveyed the empty room. My eyes scanned over the cluttered desk, the papers strewn across the floor, the large pile of clothes in the corner of the room that I needed to wash, they stopped on the empty bed next to mine. I was sitting in my dorm. My bed not five feet from the other. It was unmade, sheets clumped at the end of the bed, cover coming off. The hot pink pillow cases were barely hanging onto the pillows which were lazily tossed about the bed.

Carly's bed.

The tree brushed against my window again. I didn't pay any attention to it. I had to tear my eyes away from the bed in order to stop the oncoming threat of new tears. I went into the bathroom to wash my face. The fact I had been replacing sleep with crying for the last week clearly showed in the bathroom mirror. My normal bright blue eyes were dulled to a cloudy grey and my blonde hair was tangled and stuck up in several places. I quickly ran a brush through it, straightening it out.

I left the bathroom, forcing myself not to look at the bed. It wasn't hard, though, for someone was crouched on the windowsill watching my every movement. I froze, my body attaching itself to the wall. The grin the man showed gave me no comfort. His teeth were white – almost too white for my taste. I immediately felt uneasy around him, and it wasn't just because I had no idea who he was.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" I questioned him. He chuckled and stepped down into the room.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The answer alone made me feel worse. I told myself I couldn't trust this man, he was probably just coming in there to rape me for his own sick pleasure.

"Who are you?" My voice trembled despite my protest to appear unafraid.

This was a new experience for me. Fear. Most of my life I was considered fearless but lately, I was anything but fearless. My confidence had significantly been lowered and I didn't feel like myself anymore.

He smirked and walked over to where I was. When he was halfway to me, I pulled myself away from the wall, gathering courage. "Stay right there!" I ordered him. His smirk never disappeared as he stopped and held up his hands, palms facing me.

"What's your name?" He asked me.

"Sam." I whispered. My answer shocked me. I didn't know this man, I didn't know what he was doing in my room, and here I was telling him my name. I shouldn't trust him, but there was something in the way he smiled – the way his beautiful brown eyes shone – that made me feel like it didn't matter. His brown hair was short, but not too short – sticking up slightly in the front, showing off his prominent jaw line. His black hoodie hung loosely around his torso. His jeans were slightly loose but fit him effortlessly, matching perfectly with his faded black converse.

"You've been crying." He said, his face not inches from mine. I jumped, startled. I had been so intently staring at him that I didn't even notice him walk over to me. His hands lightly touched my cheeks – his warm hands burned against my ice-cold skin. "So what is wrong Sam?"

"You never answered my question." I answered instead. I bit my lip. His hands were soft and kept tracing all along my jaw.

"You never answered mine." He retorted.

I shook my head. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Oh, but don't you?" He cocked his head to the side and stared into my eyes. It felt as if he was staring into my soul and reading everything within me. It was like he knew what I was thinking even before I knew it myself. I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek against his still lingering hand.

"My best friend just died." The words blurted from my mouth before I could register what I was saying. His hand slipped from my face and he took a step back, shoving both hands in his jeans' pockets.

"Harsh." His answered surprised me. I was so used to hearing someone say how sorry they felt, or how tragic her death was. Someone who wasn't even all that concerned, but didn't want to seem like an ass. But his one word, despite how much of an ass it made him seem, summed up exactly how I was feeling about everything. Harsh. "So what happened?" He was sitting on Carly's bed by then. He patted the spot next to him. I took a seat across from him on my bed.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I just said I didn't want to talk about it."

"And yet you still told me." I looked at him.

"You haven't even told me your name."

He shrugged. "So what happened?"

"She died in a car accident." There it was again. I was telling someone I didn't even know something I couldn't even talk to my parents about.

"Ouch." But maybe that was it. He wasn't Spencer or Melanie. He wasn't going to give me any heart-felt sympathetic crap; he was just going to say whatever he thought about it – no matter how it sounded coming out.

Oddly enough, I found it comforting.

The bed squeaked as the man laid down, sending my heart into a spasm attack. He was lying on Carly's bed. A bed I couldn't even bring myself to look at and he was _lying_ on it? He made himself comfortable, picking up a picture from the nightstand. He smirked looking over the picture.

"So, how long were you friends?" His voice was taunting, but it wasn't directed towards me, it was just in general.

"Fourteen years." I swallowed the lump burning in the back of my throat just from saying those few words.

He chuckled. "Sure looks like she knew have to have a good time." His eyes were glancing around the room and the various pictures hung up around the walls of Carly and all her friends at various different parties.

After high school, Carly began to change. College changed her. She began going out to parties all the time and she constantly had a boyfriend. She wasn't the same girl I grew up with but that didn't change our friendship one bit. She and I were as close as ever.

I nodded. "What about you?"

"I don't like going out that much."  
>This was true. While Carly began even more of a social butterfly, I became a recluse. I started to actually want to focus on my grades and not go to parties anymore. I didn't see the appeal of getting drunk and hooking up with random guys every night. Carly wasn't the only one changed dramatically by college.<p>

"I figured."

"Excuse me?" Instead of answering my question, the man got up off the bed and began to walk towards the window, sticking his head outside as he leaned against the ledge.

"So what are you doing inside on a night like this?"

"My _best friend_ just died."

"So?"

"So, I think I have the right to stay inside!"

"You would rather stay inside and wallow in your own self-pity than go outside and enjoy the night?"

"Right, because it's so much better to sneak into girls' dorm rooms like some sick perv instead!"

He smirked. "You think of me like that?"

"Well…Yeah, I mean, I did…" My voice trailed off. By then, I was standing beside him at the window. The cool breeze blew my hair gently.

He looked at me and smirked. "You did?"

I felt my cheeks burn a crimson red as I ducked my head to avoid his gaze. "I shouldn't be doing this…" I muttered. "My sister just _died_ and I'm here flirting with some guy that I don't even know his name to!"

"So now we are flirting?" He gave me a cheeky grin that this time was taunting_me_.

"Shut up." I mumbled, walking back to my bed. He turned away from the window and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his chest, foot leaning against the wall. And, of course, his smirk was still written on his face. I buried my face in my hands as soon as I sat back down on my bed. I knew there was no way I was going to get any sleep that night.

"Don't cry." The words were whispered so softly that I almost didn't hear them. I looked up to see the man still standing in the same position as before, but his smirk was gone and in his eyes there was nothing but compassion.

"I can't help it!" I yelled to him. "It seems like all I can do lately is cry! I can't concentrate on school; my sister is constantly calling just to make sure I haven't killed myself, and I can't even look at her god-damn bed without breaking into a fit of tears! I've got some strange man standing in my dorm room, and I can't even gather enough courage to tell you to leave! And now, you're standing there, telling me not to cry?" My voice was in hysterics. I searched for a nearby tissue, but found none. A smooth hand was shoved in my face, holding a tissue.

He sat down next to me on the bed, handing me the tissue. "That is exactly what I am telling you to do." I buried my face onto his chest, letting out another sob of tears. He held me in his arms softly. He didn't usher any back-rubs, or 'shh's, he just held me and let me cry. It wasn't long before I stopped crying, my tears ceasing to flow from my eyes, and I just sat there, shivering in his arms. The man pulled back, stripping his hoodie from his body revealing a form-fitting white t-shirt that show off rippling muscles. He handed me the jacket. "You need it more than I do."

I took it gratefully and put it on, instantly embraced with a warm sensation. I had felt so cold for so long that even just this hoodie was enough to keep me warm through the deadest of winters. He laid back in my bed, pulling me down with him. He didn't pull me on top of him, or press himself over me. He simply pulled me down next to him. His arms held me in a strong embrace and I nuzzled my face against his neck, my breathing soon slowing into a deep sleep.

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><p>When I woke up the next day, the man was gone. I had thought it was all a dream - that the night had never happened. But, when I walked into the bathroom that morning, I found that I was still wearing the black hoodie. Inside the front pocket was the tissue I had used the night before. I smiled to myself as I threw it away in the trashcan, pulling out the bag to throw away for good.<p> 


	2. Part 2

Just to warn you, there is some cussing in this chapter. Just saying. Don't forget to review!

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><p>"<strong>Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish." – Chuck Palahniuk<br>**

The next time I saw him wasn't for another several weeks. I am not going to lie, I spent the first few days back on campus doing nothing but looking for him. I hated how large the school was.

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><p>It was a cool spring day. I had just finished my last class of the day and I wanted nothing more than to climb into my bed and pass out for the next three days, but I couldn't for I had at least two hours of homework from each of my classes. I had added several classes to my schedule so I could keep myself busy and it cause me to not have so much free time anymore. Plus, I figured if Carly couldn't finish college, at least I would. It's what she would have wanted.<p>

I unlocked my dorm room, closing the door behind me with my foot as I tossed my keys on the desk with my books. I took off my jacket and hung it back up in my closet, no longer leaving my clothes lying on the floor. A chill breeze swam into my room and I turned toward the window to close it when I saw him leaning against the wall. My breath hitched in my throat as he smirked at my startled appearance.

"You know, you really shouldn't leave your window unlocked. Some creepy perv might try to sneak in here and rape you."

My face burned red as I struggled to find something to say. "You're back."

He shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood."

"Are you going to tell me your name this time?"

"I'm guessing you still haven't gotten out much since I left."

I shook my head. "I've been focusing on school."

He held out his hand to me. "Come on, we're going out."

The man led me out to the window ledge where he climbed onto the tree branch. He held out his arms for me to jump into. I shook my head.

"I can't do this."

"Yes, you can. Just jump and don't look down." I looked down. Before, I had never thought five floors was very high up, but when you are looking at the ground leaning from a window ledge, you suddenly realize just how high it is. I shook my head again.

"Jump and I'll catch you." He reassured me.

"There is a door that goes outside, you know."

"Where's the fun in that?" He smirked. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. Opening them again, I pushed myself from the ledge and jumped, landing into his arms in a fit of giggles. Sam Puckett wasn't one to giggle but something about this situation caused me to burst into a fit of laughter. "There, now, don't you agree that was much more entertaining than walking through a boring old door?"

After climbing down from the tree, we ended up walking across campus to a park I didn't even know we had. Throughout the entire walk, we didn't say a single word to each other, but he never let go of my hand. I am pretty sure I never stopped blushing. Judging from the smirk on his face I would say I was right. When we got to the park, he bought two ice cream cones and his hand dropped mine to hold onto his cone as he handed me mine. As we walked, my hand felt empty without having his to fill the space. I had spent the last weeks filling up every possible available time with classes and activities just so I wouldn't have to feel alone anymore, and along came a man whose name I _still_ didn't know – all he had to do was remove his hand from mine and the emptiness rushed back into me.

I felt stupid. It was just some foolish school-girl crush. I told myself I couldn't have feelings for this man. In fact, the more we walked through the park, the more I had myself convinced that I just wasn't used to the attention and he didn't mean anything to me. He sat down under a giant oak tree in the middle of the park. I sat down calmly; fully convinced I had no real feelings for this complete stranger.

And then I looked into his eyes once more.

I knew the way I felt my insides melt that everything I had convinced myself before was lost for good.

"So are you going to tell me your name today?" The man stood up, stretching, before looking down at me.

"Are you done with your ice cream cone?" I handed what little remained of my cone and sighed to myself as he threw away our trash. He sat back down beside me and leaned up against the tree, hands resting behind his head and legs stretched out in front of him. I sat with my knees to my chest, sideways beside him, so that while I was still facing him, I could look out and watch the activities going on around me in the park.

"So what have you been up to?" He asked after a few minutes of silence.

I shrugged. "I've been busy."

"Then you haven't been going out much, I presume?"

"I told you, I've been busy."

"I think you're just making yourself busy to have something to do."

"Excuse me?" How could it be that, when I knew so little of this man, he seemed to know everything about me?

"Do you ever go out clubbing? Or just go somewhere to dance?" He kept doing it. No matter what question I asked, he never answered me.

"I'm not into that kind of stuff."

"Why?" He closed his eyes, basking in the bright sunlight of the afternoon.

"It's not my thing." I looked away, wanting the questions to be over. Now.

"Why?" He peeked out at me with one eye, curiosity written on his face.

"In high school, I used to like going to parties but once we got to college, everything changed. I started to focus on my grades for one reason or another and partying became Carly's thing…" My voice trailed off at the end, my throat clamping closed. A large lump built inside my throat and I knew I had gone too far. Even without saying anything, he knew what my answer was going to be, and he _still_ asked the question. I wanted to be angry with him. To yell at him and hit him and scream at someone – anyone. He shouldn't be able to come in here and read my like an open book when half the time, I couldn't even figure myself out. But I couldn't yell; I couldn't scream; most of all, I couldn't hit anyone. Instead, I simply sat on the ground and felt the tears begin to trickle down my face.

I felt the man's arms wrap about my body and him lift me up off the ground. I buried my face in his chest as he began to walk. The walk back to the dorm was shorter than expected, and much to my pleasure, the man used the front door to the dorm this time, instead of climbing the tree. Though, I doubt he could climb the tree while carrying me.

He laid me in my bed and sat across from me on Carly's bed. I knew he was right; I kept myself busy just to have something to do. If I had something to do, I wouldn't have time to stop and think. I wouldn't think about how I wasn't over Carly's death, despite how I told myself I was. The man patiently waited for me while my tears slowed to a trickle until they were nothing more.

I sat up in the bed and wiped my eyes. I grabbed a tight pair of jeans and an old shirt Carly bought for me from my closet and ran into the bathroom. I fixed my makeup and got dressed. When I came out of the bathroom, I leaned against the wall from the man. His head lifted and I saw his eyes do an once-over. His smirk showed his approval.

"You say I need to go out more. So let's go, then." I kept myself busy with schoolwork so I wouldn't have to think of Carly. But honestly, I was driving myself insane with all the extra classes I decided to take. I needed to go out and have a good time. Carly always said clubbing was fun, and hell, if I was going to try something new, it might as well me with him.

He smiled, standing up and grabbed my hand in his before pulling me back to the window. "I know just the place."

The club I was taken to was loud and the stench of alcohol and cigarettes filled the air. Although, it was nothing I wasn't used to. It kind of reminded me of growing up. The man dragged me over to the bar and before I could say anything, a drink was shoved in my face. I looked up at the face of the man that had given me the drink. He was tall, with short black hair. His eyes were dark; or maybe they weren't, but I really couldn't tell anything in the club. He smiled warmly at me and sat down on the bar stool next to me.

He stuck his hand out to me. "Eric."

I shook his hand lightly. "Sam." Eric and I began talking, or as close as talking as you could get in a club. I surveyed the club for the man that had brought me here but he was nowhere in sight. I sighed inwardly to myself, feeling slightly disappointed.

"Wanna dance?" Eric asked me. I looked up at him standing in front of me with his hand extended. I nodded my head, taking his hand as he led me out to the dance floor.

I was slightly buzzed – I knew that much. What I didn't know was the song that was playing, nor did I know how to dance. I tried to explain that to Eric but he just smiled and put his hands on my waist. "Just go with the flow." He told me. So I did just that. I "danced" – more like grinded – with Eric for several songs. The mass crowd of people on the dance floor surrounded me, intensifying the heat several degrees. My alcohol buzz hadn't worn off yet, and I was feeling great. The beats in the songs hyped me up, never leaving me to feel tired or exhausted, but wanting more. It felt good to let go and just go with the flow for once.

I looked up from where I was dancing with Eric and saw the man watching me from across the room. He had a scowl on his face and I knew something was wrong. Eric's hands were sliding up and down my body with his chest pressed against my back, his face in the crook of my neck. Tingles flipped through my body as Eric's lips lightly placed a kiss on my shoulder before turning me around to face him.

"Let's get out of here." He shouted over the music. I looked over at the man who was still glaring in our direction.

"I don't know…"

"What's the problem, babe?" He grabbed my wrists, trying to drag me away from the dance floor to the door.

"I came here with a friend."

"Tell them to find their own ride home!" He suggested with an evil grin on his face. I was uncomfortable with where this was going. I had listened to Carly enough to know that leaving the club with someone you didn't arrive with alone was never a good idea, especially if you didn't know them beforehand.

"I don't think so…" I pulled my arm away from him, searching for the man. He wasn't where I last saw him and I looked all around the club for him, hoping I could use him as an escape, but I couldn't find him anywhere.

"Come on." Eric's voice was much more aggressive now, his hands clamping tight onto my wrists. "Let's go." He jerked on my arms, almost to the door now. I dug my heels to the floor, desperately attempting to stop or at least slow Eric on his journey to the door.

It didn't work.

Eric made it out the door and pressed me up against the cool brick wall behind the building. He started kissing my neck, trailing down to my chest. I tried shoving him away but he simply grabbed my hands and shoved them against the wall, cutting them as he did so.

"Stop!" I yelled at him, tears beginning to stream down my face as he began to take off my shirt. He pressed his body against mine, pressing me even harder against the wall. I let out a wail as a sharp brick poked me in the back, pain jolting through my body.

Suddenly, all of Eric's weight was lifted off my body and I fell to the ground. When I looked up, I saw the man from my dorm straddling Eric and punching him in the face.

"Don't. You. Fucking. Touch. Her." He said through clenched teeth. The man got off Eric, kicking him in the ribs before grabbing me and dragging me away from the alley. "We're leaving." The man stormed away and I followed behind swiftly, not wanting to be left alone. Once we were finally walking at a normal pace, I noticed the sharp stinging feeling on my hands. I looked at them and there were was a large cut on my left hand that was dripping with blood.

"Damn." I murmured. The man stopped, looking at me.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing. My hand is just cut from…" I didn't dare mention his name for each word I said motioning with my hand back in the general direction of the club, the man's face grew even redder with anger, though he kept his facial expressions in check.

"Here." He said, motioning for me to give him my hand. I held it out while he ripped off a piece of his shirt and tightly tied it around my wound. His hand was cold and his fingers were nimble, but with each touch he gave me, I felt a wave of electricity pass through my body. He bit his lip while he concentrated on making sure the cloth would stay around my hand.

"Ow!" I shouted, pulling my hand back. "Too tight."

"Sorry." He gently took my hand back in his, loosening the fabric. "Better?" His hands left mine and I gave him a weak smile, nodding my head.

"Yeah, thanks." He nodded his head and continued walking.

We didn't talk about what happened until we got back to my dorm. I sat down on my bed, exhausted while the man wandered around my room, looking at Carly's many pictures on the walls.

"Thanks." I whispered after a while.

The man looked at me, confused. "For what?"

"For tonight. It was nice."

He snorted. "Yeah, almost getting raped is so nice."

"Well at least he didn't sneak into my room." He laughed, shaking his head. "And besides," I continued, "I had you there to save the day."

"Why did you leave with him in the first place?" The man asked, immediately changing the mood in the room.

"You think I wanted to? He dragged me out of the place! I'm sorry if I am not some sumo-wrestler that can crush a person by sitting on them!"

"You didn't want to?"

"No. I really didn't. Even though I don't go to clubs that much, Carly had always told me about guys like him. I just didn't realize he was like that until it was too late…"

"Seems like Carly knows what she was talking about."

"Yeah. Whores always do." The words blurted from my mouth before I could even register I was thinking them. I quickly covered my mouth with my hands, ashamed at what I said. The man looked at me, surprised.

"Did you just call your best friend a whore?" He asked me, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

I nodded my head slowly, tears streaming down my face. "She always went to club. She always came home drunk and completely out of it every night. She almost always brought a guy with her. I would just have to lie there and pretend to be asleep while they did God-knows-what on the bed right next to me! I couldn't take it! It was always a different guy too! She even had a boyfriend, did you know that? No, of course you didn't! What would you know! She was a fucking whore!" I screamed at him, tears freely flowing from my eyes.

He laughed. "Wow…"

"Shut up!" I shouted at him. "Shut up! What do you know? You think you can just waltz in here like God or something? Well you can't! You treat this all like some kind of game! You probably don't even care about my feelings! You take to me to some damn club saying that I need to go out more and have fun when I almost get raped by some creep and you're standing there laughing at me for calling my friend a whore!" For once, he didn't say anything. The man simply stood in the middle of my room with his hands in his pockets and stared at me, a surprised and slightly confused look etched on his face. "Just get out." I mumbled, shaking my head and burying it in my hands. "Just get out!" I shouted, another set of tears breaking through.

I heard the soft shuffling of his feet across the floor and the tree branches ruffling outside. I lay down in my bed, burying my face in the pillow and sobbed myself to sleep that night.

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><p>Needless to say, in the morning, I felt horrible for yelling at the man. I was afraid that I was never going to see him again after that. I wasn't mad at him, I was just mad at the world in general. My life felt like every time I took one step forward, I took two steps back, plummeting into a dark black hole of emptiness. I hated knowing that every time I fell into the hole, I did it freely. I never tried to stop myself, but simply allowed grief to take over my life.<p>

But I was determined not to jump freely into that hole again. I cut out two of my classes after that day and started calling up my friends again. I started hanging out more and having actual…fun. It was strange at first. I felt as if I didn't know even my closest friend, besides Carly, seeing as their lives had kept moving on while it seemed like mine was stuck in neutral. But, slowly, I started to regain some of my old self again, feeling more confident and comfortable with life a little more each day.


End file.
