


iDig

by accidental laughter



Category: iCarly
Genre: Adventure, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-10-28
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2014-06-15 02:31:35
Rating: T
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,410
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6433963/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2007334/accidental-laughter
Summary: Freddie can handle digging holes. He can't handle Sam. That's why his camp director for delinquents hatched the idea. After all, "There's only one thing that can bring people together and teach 'em a lesson all in one: a week in the desert. Alone."





	1. Dust storms and head checks

**Summary:** Sent to a juvenile delinquent camp for something he didn't do, Freddie deals with anger and resentment towards almost everybody. Unfortunately, the blonde headed demon's there too.(And that doesn't help with anything..)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly.

This story is loosely based on the movie Holes. I don't own that either.

* * *

_"It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light."_

**-Taylor Benson**

The phone in my hand was hot and sweaty. Carly's voice sounded so far away. "It's all going to be okay, Freddie. Spencer's working right now to prove you innocent. It's going to be a lot harder for Sam, though. He says the cops are already fed up with her record."

I sighed. "But our cases are tied together. If she can't get out-"

"We're trying, Freddie."

The phone started to buzz, signaling that my time was up.

"I've got to go."

"Wait," Carly pleaded, "your mom misses you Freddie. Call her sometime, okay?"

I growled. "Okay, bye." I lied, hanging the phone back unto the holder. A line had formed since I first picked up the phone. A mixture of boys and girls, mainly boys, were standing around with scowls on their faces. Sam was somewhere in that line. I didn't care, though. I could care less who Sam's going to call (though I know it's going to be Carly. Her mom wouldn't care and Melanie would be too disappointed.).

I could care less about Sam, period.

"Back to your station, Benson." Mr. Munroe, my director, ordered. "You got a lot of diggin' to do."

* * *

I met up with the gang at our post. Lincoln, my only friend at the site, fist bumped me.

"Yo, man. Talk to your girly-friend?"

I rolled my eyes. I knew it was a mistake when I told him about my infatuation with Carly.

I glanced over his clothes. Like usual, they were tattered and covered with dirt. His brown shaggy hair hung over his eyes, caked with dry blood. He noticed my concern and said, "Kameron decided to whack me."

I glanced at Kameron, who was digging innocently acting like he wasn't listening. Cole, the weird one of the group, was digging another hole next to him. Then I picked up my shovel (pure black with the words iCarly painted on it) and started to help Link with the hole he was working on. He seemed to notice how my eyes would linger on the iCarly logo.

"Don't worry, man.", he said sympathetically, "You'll be outta here soon." He stuck the shovel against a rock. It clanged loudly. "Sooner than I will.", he mumbled, picking up the rock and throwing it into the rock pile. Link's situation was worse than mine. He never actually told me (or anyone) what went down, but I've heard rumors. I was about to say something to reassure him, but a hot gust of wind blew against my face. If it had been my first day I would've shrugged and passed it off for nothing. But I'd been here for a while, and this wasn't just another gust of wind.

"Dust storm!", a black headed girl shrieked, throwing down her shovel and running for the concrete dorms. I looked where she had pointed, and sure enough, a cloud of dust was hurling our way. I threw my shovel into the hole I had just been digging and tugged Link's arm. "This looks bad, Link. Let's get out of here." He nodded his head and threw his shovel down too.

When I got to the concrete dorms, Mr. Munroe did a head check.

"Lincoln Normand?"

"Here.", Link said, raising his hand.

"Samantha Puckett?"

I could almost picture the glare that was bound to be plastered on her face. Nobody answered.

"Samantha Puckett?"

Everybody was looking around, and eventually a red headed girl raised her hand. "She was right next to me when we were digging. She might've been too late and got-"

"Nonsense.", Mr. Munroe cut her off, "There's been plenty of storms like this since she arrived. She knows better than to pitter patter around when one comes"

Another girl, one I recognized as the girl that stole her parents car and took a joyride, Patty, spoke up. " What are we going to do then?"

Mr. Munroe wrote something down on his participation records, then walked calmly to the other side of the room. "Wait it out, I suppose."

"But we can't just leave her out there!", Patty yelled, flinging her arms up angrily.

"We can and we will."

Several shouts of disgust and anger echoed through the room. The wind outside seemed to increase just as this happened. The wind itself probably had enough force to blow away a person. The dorms didn't have windows; and if they did they'd been broken out long ago. We couldn't really see what was happening, but we could hear it. And it seemed as soon as it begun, it was over.

"Benson." Mr. Munroe barked, pointing his finger at me.

"Yes, sir?"

"Go get Samantha and bring her here immediately."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

I stepped out of the dorms awkwardly, tripping over several shredded tarps that the storm had blown. I wasn't really sure where to look. It may seem cold of me, but I could really care less where she was. If she got blown away; good. Makes life easier for me.

Of course, I would never be that lucky. I could hear loud music coming from a hole near the girls line of work, and decided to look there first. There she was, blonde hair and all, picking dirt out of her fingernails in a hole that she probably didn't dig.

I said, "Sam." , but she didn't seem to hear me. I finally got her attention by throwing a rock at her head. It missed, barely.

"What?", she said angrily, as if I had disturbed her peace of mind.

"Mr. Munroe wants you. You didn't show up for head-counts after the dust storm."

"So?"

Everything was a battle with her.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked her, pointing at the pearpod in her hands.

"Where'd you get that ridiculous hair-do?", she shot back maliciously.

"Where'd you get that attitude problem?" I growled, kicking the dirt into her face.

She stood up in the hole like she was going to punch me, but she slipped and fell back into it. I grabbed her hand and held her up. "Lets just go."

She got up wordlessly, stuffing the pearpod into her bra, and followed me to the dorms, where she knew punishment awaited.


	2. Your new digging partner, Frank

**A/N: **_Thanks for the reviews! Just thought I'd let you know that I'm not going to just come out and say what the pairings will be in this story. It might not be what you expect! ;) keep reading though. _

A hot bead of sweat dripped down my face and fizzled out before it could reach the ground. I was working double time today because Link's gone. He's probably in the infirmary near the second set of dorm rooms, because he didn't come to our dorm last night. Kameron told me he suddenly got sick and wouldn't be working today. This is the third time he's had to stay in sick since I got here. I asked Cole, "What could be wrong with him?," but all he said was, "I guess he's sick." Then he bent over and picked up a muddy rock and shoved it towards my face. "Ain't that just the purdiest rock you ever saw?" I stared at the rock blankly, not seeing any beauty whatsoever.

"Here, you keep it."

He's not the brightest flower in the patch if you know what I mean.

I took the rock and put it in my pocket, then continued to dig. I was doing pretty good with the hole, it was almost as deep as it needed to be. ( Mr. Munroe demands them to be at least deep enough to stand in, which is not fair because there's some really short people out there…) But sounds of terrified screams broke my focus. At first I thought it was another dust storm, but I recognized Sam's voice as one of the screamers.

"Help me!," a girl was screaming, running away from Sam. Sam was carrying a shovel in batting position, yelling, "You can't hide stupid! It's a freaking desert!" When Sam finally caught up with the girl, Mr. Munroe was already at the scene.

"What's going on here?," he barked, taking the shovel away from Sam.

"She poured dirt all over me!," Sam accused, glaring at the girl.

"I didn't know you were in the hole!"

The girl was shaking pretty bad. Almost all the girls here are afraid of Sam, and that says a lot, especially when some of them are charged with attempted murder.

"Are you unable to get along with the girls here?," Mr. Munroe asked Sam, who was making growling noises.

"She can't get along with anybody." I mumbled.

"What was that, Benson? Volunteering? Well, okay. Samantha, meet your new diggin' partner, Frank."

Her eyes bore into mine angrily, and my anger started to blaze too.

"It's Freddie."

He shrugged. "Frank, Freddie, same thing."

**...**

Seeing Sam's episode reminded me of the reason we were in this mess.

It was a Saturday night, and I was doing homework. I was trying to calculate the square root of a huge number when Sam started to beat down my door. When I let her inside she had a mischievous smile spread across her face.

"Let's prank Lewburt."

"Why? If you haven't already noticed, I'm a little busy here."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Me and Carls were trying to find something fun to do on iCarly. I suggested pranking Lewb, but she won't let me because of what happened last time."

The last time we pranked Lewburt something went horribly wrong and he lost his wart. (don't ask.)

"And what makes you think _I_ want to prank him after what happened last time?"

She held up her fist. "This."

**...**

Sam had the prank all planned out: Fill two buckets with syrup and sprinkles and place it above his head on the door frame. When he opens the door it will fall; making him a big sprinkled cupcake. It seemed to me that it wasn't her best prank, but she seemed to think it was. I went along with it, thinking nothing could possibly go wrong. It was fool-proof. She even had a way to make the bucket miss his head when it fell on him. When we got downstairs she already had the syrup there. She forgot to bring the sprinkles and we had to go all the way to her house just to get them. When the prank was all set up and ready to go, we hid behind the staircase and waited with the camera. It all went as planned, Lewburt walked right into the trap. The syrup poured and the sprinkles dropped. We started to laugh and high-five, and I really enjoyed the moment. Sam and I only got along when we were doing something we both enjoyed, like pranking people. Just as we were about to turn off the camera, Lewburt started to scream. At first we thought it was just his normal scream-until we realized they were agonizing screams, like he was in pain. We ran over to him and gasped. Hot steam was coming off his skin. He was screaming bloody murder, yelling, "It burns, It burns!"

Someone that had came out of the elevator rushed to his aid and quickly called the cops. Of course they asked if he saw who did it, and, unfortunately for us, Lewburt started screaming, "It was them! The rotten kids from iCarly!"

Lewburt ended up with third degree burns and some blindness in one eye (it was punctured by a sprinkle).

We were taken to the police station, got a lawyer, and were given a choice: Wait two years in lockdown for our actions, or go to _Camp Metamorphosis _for eighteen months. Mom said she wouldn't have a son who had a criminal record, and they promised my record would be clean if I went to the camp, so she chose for me. I haven't forgiven her since because she didn't let me choose for myself. But I also haven't forgiven Sam since it was her idea that got us into this whole mess.

Since that day, and since I arrived at this stupid camp, Carly has been promising me that Spencer will somehow get us out of this.

Just as I began to think nothing could make my situation worse, Sam is now my digging partner.

__

Oh, yay.


	3. Miserable at Metamorphisis

**A/N: I know, I know. It's taken me so long to update. I'm sorry about that. Homework is horrible. But, Christmas is near :) Happy Daylight savings time. Oh, and look on my blog on my profile to see when I will be updating. I also have new story ideas ^.^**

Fortunately for me, being a digging partner with Sam does not require sharing a dorm room. (It was just a coincidence that Link and I got one together) And because of Link's unknown sickness, I was given a lot of time to think about my situation.

Spencer once told me there's always a loop hole. He said there's always a way to get out of a problem if you really look for it. But I seriously doubt there's a way to get out of mine. The lawyer made it perfectly clear; Camp Metamorphosis, or jail. He didn't say "You can go to Camp Metamorphosis until your best friends brother can prove you innocent."

It doesn't look very good.

But Sam swore up and down that when she put the syrup into the bucket it was cold. "It's not like I micro-waved it or something!", she shrieked at the police officer who was drilling her. But of course he didn't believe her. Truthfully, I don't even know if _I_ believed her. Hot syrup did sound like something she would do.

And my mother's disappointment and betrayal doesn't help with anything. It's her fault I'm even at this place. If it wasn't for her I would still be home finishing my math homework.

And as I said before, If it wasn't for Sam, I wouldn't be in this place.

So, thanks, Sam.

Being at this camp is horrible. It's boot camp, except it's like a desert with a hundred degree temperatures. And since it's a 'camp', you would figure the 'camp director' would have something fun planned each week, right? Yeah, it's so much fun to watch popsicles melt. (They give us popsicles, but by the time we raise them to our mouths they're melted.)

The only thing I look forward to is Sunday.

Every Sunday Mr. Munroe lets us 'scout out' our next digging spots. While everyone else is looking for dig-able land, Link and I look for a place to escape. (though we never really find one.)

The stuff we do find, though, Is rewarding: arrow heads, jewelry (Link says he's getting something to give to his mom when he get's back.), old shoes, and sometimes even weapons! (broken arrows, knives, et cetera).

And of course it's always good to hear from Carly. The camp permits us to call one person every two weeks. I haven't called mom yet. I don't feel the need to talk with her.

The only thing that I love about this camp is my freedom. No tick baths, no daily spraying, and best of all: I can eat whatever I want. The food isn't that good..but it's a lot better than organic crap.

**A/N: A very short, but needed filler. The next chapter may or may not be longer. Thanks for all your awesome reviews! And sorry for the delay! Next update will be quicker!**

**-SGE **


	4. The heat's gettin' to everyone

**A/N: Oh, I feel horrible. I lied. This update was horribly long and I'm sure you've all suffered enough. Hope you like this one. **

* * *

Link came back later that week. He walked right up to me with the biggest smirk on his face and said, "You move fast, man. Who's this hot headed beauty?"

I was surprised to see Sam's face tinted with pink. Not a whole lot, just enough to make my eyes bulge out. Link has a special effect on ladies.

I looked at her smugly and she shoved me.

"Feelin' better?" I asked, handing him his shovel. I looked at his face carefully; he looked pale.

"Yeah, man. I'm fine."

We dug for about ten minutes until I stopped to glare at Sam. She was sitting in a different hole, sleeping. I dropped some dirt into the hole but it didn't wake her up. "Let her sleep." Link advised me. "I've seen that girl angry before." I rolled my eyes, but took his advice and continued to dig.

It started to get dark around nine thirty, and by then we had already packed up and began to head back. Sam finally emerged from the hole, wearing an angry look on her face. She approached me as I was packing up empty food rations and grabbed my arm.

"How'd dirt get in my hair?"

I shrugged innocently. "How'd I end up at this stupid camp?"

"Can't you just let that go? I told you I didn't-"

"Whatever." I interjected, grabbing my shovel. I brushed the dirt off the iCarly logo and stood up. "Just get your stuff and go to your dorm. I don't want another repeat of last time."

I walked off, and for once she didn't say anything.

The next morning I discovered why Sam hadn't said anything the night before. She was too busy pouring all the dirt back into the holes I spent three days digging.

"What the crap, Sam!" I shouted angrily. She looked back at me and smirked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I heard Link chuckle beside me.

"Sam-"

"Oh, give the girl a break." Link said, wiping the sweat off his face with his shirt. "Give her a break?" my voice rose an octave, "She filled all the freakin' holes I dug! And you want me to give her a break?"

Link's hands rose defensively and I realized I was invading his space. I took a few steps back and he looked at me seriously. "Dude, you need some fresh air. The heat's getting to you."

The rational part of my brain started to work again. _Calm down, Benson. Everything's okay. You're going to be leaving this place soon. Sam isn't here. Sam isn't.._

Crunching noises broke my concentration. Loud, plastic crinkling noises were ringing through my ears. I looked to Sam reluctantly, not wanting another outburst on my part, and she stared back with a jumbo fat cake in her hands.

"What?" she said, her mouth full with fat cake.

Words cannot describe how badly I wanted to scream, but I bit my tongue and held it in. Luckily Mr. Munroe made an announcement before I could belt anything stupid.

"Campers, you've worked hard. Now we don't do things like this often, but since it is a hundred and two, I'd say ya'll deserve a day off. Go to your dorms. And no, I repeat, no partying."

Everyone was too tired to cheer. I grabbed my shovel and stormed off to my dorm.

**/http/**

The rain was coming down slowly. It was refreshing; something I hadn't seen since I arrived at Camp Stupid-Idea. A breath of fresh air is what everyone needs when their lives go down the crapper.

"Why am I not surprised?" A voice behind me muttered. It was deep and reassuring, and I knew immediately who it was: Lincoln. Freddie's friend. I didn't say anything and just continued to watch the rain. He sat beside me quietly. "I wish everyday was like this." he said thoughtfully, admiring the rain with me. I looked at him briefly, inspecting his face for seriousness. He was smiling.

"How can you be so happy when your whole life is falling apart?" I asked. He waited a long time before replying. "My life's not falling apart. It's just a little off track."

I laughed and he looked offended. "What about you, then?"

I didn't have to think about it. "If your life's 'a little off track' then my life just crashed headfirst into another train."

"Ah, you mean Freddie."

I jerked my head towards him quickly, my eyebrows scrunched together angrily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He was fighting a smile. "Well, what I'm trying to say is..sometimes life isn't fair. Sure, my life has it's moments. But you have to look at the bright side and realize that people are put into your life for a reason."

I bit my lip, thinking, before saying, "And by people you're referring to-"

"Freddie." he finished, his eyes darting to a puddle forming near his feet. "He's here for a reason, y'know."

"Yeah, because I pranked Lewburt and ruined his life. I know, I've been told a-"

"No." He completely cut off what I was about to say and stared back at me. His grey eyes were stormy and thoughtful; I couldn't look away.

"Then what's he here for, huh? To make my life miserable?" I crossed my arms.

"You two don't get along well, do ya'?" His eyes went from stormy to sparkly.

"Oh, Gee. You're just now catching that, huh?"

He stood up abruptly. "Well, I guess you'll see the light someday, eh? Goodnight, Sam."

As he walked away I couldn't help but to notice something on the back of his head. He was gone before I could ask any questions.

The rain stopped just before midnight, taking some humidity with it and leaving a cool wind. I stared at the moon thoughtfully. It looked pretty, I had to admit, especially after the clouds cleared up. I couldn't help but to think of what Link had said.

"_People are put into your life for a reason…"_

Yeah, right. I think the heat finally got to his head.

**A/N: Finally some input from Sam. I figured you all deserved it since I abandoned you for like-ever. The next update won't be until after Christmas. I have a huge busy schedule to attend to. Thanks =)**

**-SGE**


	5. A reason to Dig

**Read A/N at end, _please._ **

One particular Sunday, as Link and I labored away digging minor holes here and there, I ran onto one filled with pearls.

They were dirty and covered with clay like mud, but Link sure liked them.

"Man, that's the biggest discovery we've made yet!" He said, smiling brightly and examining them. I was a little baffled after finding them, because pearls in the middle of the desert seemed a bit strange.

"Why would someone go all the way out here just to bury pearls?" I scratched my head, looking up at Lincoln's blissfully happy face. He looked around the area we chose to dig in; an area surrounded by cactuses and few tuffs of grass, about a mile or two away from the campsite. After scanning the vicinity, and ensuring that it was person-free, he turned to me and whispered, "This is a clue, Fredboy."

I quirked a brow, "A clue to what?"

"The treasure!" he whispered, shoving the pearls into my face. "You see, these here pearls are just a taste of what lies ahead."

"You've got to be kidding me. There's a treasure out here in the middle of nowhere? That sounds a little too good to be true."

Lincoln pursed his lips, racking his brain for just the right words to say. He motioned for me to sit on a large rock jutting out of the ground. I did, and he took a seat beside me, sighing.

"My first year at camp, a rumor was circulating about hidden treasure. One of my closest friends, Ricky, was the first person to actually explain it to me."

He paused, for dramatic effect no doubt, and then continued after I nudged his shoulder.

"He told me a long time ago, the first year of Camp Metamorphosis, to be exact, that a very rich convict was forced to dig holes just like us. He had brought his riches with him, planning on using them to bribe his way out of here. The camp director at the time was a lot better than Mr. Munroe and wouldn't accept the bribe. He believed convicts deserved the punishment they were here to receive. The boy couldn't let anyone get their hands on his riches, so he hid them out in the desert until a new Camp director would be elected, which happened the next year. When he went out to gather his treasure, he couldn't remember exactly where he had left it. After serving his three years at Camp, the new director, Mr. Munroe, sent him back to his lavish life. The boy didn't have the time to look for the riches anymore, but the rumors concerning them never stopped. Everyone wants a piece of that treasure, Freddie. It's a one way ticket out of here."

I thought the story over, long and good, trying to envision everything he was saying. The only thought that kept popping back into my mind was how long that poor rich boy had to stay at camp. Three years? Heck, my sentence is only six months and it already feels like I've been here twelve.

"So, you're saying, if we find the treasure we can bribe Mr. Munroe into letting us leave early?"

Lincoln smiled. "Who knows? Maybe Mr. Munroe will tell our parents that our behavior was so good he just had to let us out early."

I smiled at the thought. It all sounded too good to be true. The filthy pearls looked more beautiful than ever in my eyes.

"What do you say, buddy? Want to go on an adventure?" Lincoln stood up, shoving the pearls into the pocket of his cargo pants. I stood up, a smile lighting my face.

"Let the digging begin."

I never thought I'd sound so enthusiastic about digging, but with the idea of treasure bouncing around in my head, digging seemed like the most fun thing in the world.

**/http:/**

After three and a half hours of non stop digging, I never wanted to raise another shovel again. The only reward we received for our labor was a crude drawing of someone holding a shovel, the darkly colored sun pounding down on his back. Lincoln dug it up during the second hour of digging. Someone must have drawn it to mock us, because there was a note at the bottom that said, "To whoever is stupid enough to look for treasure in a desert. Love, Matt." I figured the guy could have at least drawn someone lying on the beach or something, because seeing a person hold a shovel and dig a hole in the hot sun was an image my eyes were constantly seeing.

Even Lincoln looked a little bit down in the dumps when we began to pack up. He hid it with a smile, though, a typical Lincoln thing to do.

When we got back to our dorms, Lincoln looked at me real serious and said, "Thank you, Freddie. You don't know how much this means to me."

I was taken aback by his seriousness; everyone knows Link is the most unserious guy here.

"It's nothing, Link. I'm always up for an adventure."

There was something odd about the sadness in his eyes, but he smiled nevertheless and handed me the pearls from out of his pocket.

"I think you should hold onto these a while, at least until I'm feeling a better. I think I'll stick around in the infirmary tomorrow, play hooky until I get over the heat sickness."

"Is that what it is?" I asked him, taking the pearls and placing them in my pocket. They were warm and still covered with dirt.

When he looked down at me I knew it was something way more serious, but he just smiled a little, the smile not reaching his eyes, and said, "Yes, Freddie. The heat's getting to me. Don't worry, I'm fine. Stop looking at me like I'm a wounded rabbit."

Later, when we were wrapped up in our blankets, the cool of the desert enveloping us in its dew, Lincoln called my name.

"I'm awake," I called back.

"You shouldn't be so hard on Sam." He said, coughing a bit.

"Where did that come from?"

"I just don't want you to waste what little time we have here."

"Y'know, you don't make a lot of sense at one in the morning. I don't know about you, but I have lots of time here, too much, really."

Lincoln sighed, "You'll understand one day, buddy."

"Understand what?"

"People are put into your life for a reason."

I mulled over that thought momentarily, wondering why Lincoln suddenly became Confucius at night. A little bit later, after Lincoln's loud snoring kicked in, I said to no-one in particular, "Well, I know Sam's reason: to make my life miserable."

I heard a quiet laugh, and then Link whispered, "She said the same about you."

"Then it must be true," I said, smiling. It didn't sink in until later that sleepless night that Lincoln had talked to Sam about me, and by the time it did it was too late to ask; Link was fast asleep, probably dreaming of treasures and pearls.

* * *

_**Oh. My. Gosh. It's been **_so, so, so, so, so, _**LONG! December 12, 2010 was my last update... I feel as if I've lied to each and every one of you guys. I told you I'd update soon and I never did. To be honest, I figured I would never finish this. I didn't think it was the best story I've written, and the ideas just stopped coming. Everything I thought of just didn't fit in well with the story. Well, after all the procrastination and down right laziness- I'm BACK! I can't wait to start writing again. I feel like I've grown- not just aged, but grown as a writer as well. Thanks for your patience, love, and support. I hope I haven't lost any of my awesome reviewers. Again, sorry to have let you down. I won't do this again. I am going to finish this. Thanks again, **_

_**love, **_

_**Accidental laughter**_

_**p.s. OMG SAM AND FREDDIE TOTALLY GOT TOGETHER. And they will again, very soon, I am sure. **_


	6. The Heated Debate

If there's one thing I've learned from being at Camp Metamorphosis, is that after being in the sun twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, everything starts to look the same. When I first arrived, Link told me to get used to the holes, temperature, and sweat. He said after awhile each day looks like the last, and that the only real thing to look forward to is the day you're released. Unless you're Sam, and the only thing you look forward to is lunch, this place is real depressing.

One night I heard Link struggling in his bed, punching at the pillow as if fighting some invisible demon. After examining more closely, I realized he was asleep, simply having a nightmare. When I woke him up he told me nightmares were another common ailment of life in the desert; that the longer you stay, the stranger your dreams get. He laughed and explained that he was dreaming his shovel had come to life and was trying to knock him out. I laughed and asked him how long it had been since he had normal dreams. He got real quiet for a while, and then said, "I haven't had a normal dream since my last night at home."

I tried to remember the last peaceful dream I had before being shipped here, but the only one I recalled was the dream I had the night Sam kissed me. It wasn't like any other dream I had ever had before- there was strange music playing in the background, and Sam was actually smiling. She had met me at the fire escape again, meatball in hand, eager to kiss me one last time before she went to bed. Now that I think about it, I wish I could-

"Dude, are you okay?"

Link's rough voice sent me flying out of my reverie. We were out in the hot sun, shoveling dirt out of holes; just another day in the desert.

"You've been staring at Sam for the past ten minutes. I don't blame you, though, she's got some wicked eyes, but, considering she's asleep and all, It's kind of creeping me out."

I glared at Link, a look he was used to by now. He just smiled back, sending me a wink before he lifted another pile of dirt out of the hole. He had spent the last few days in the infirmary, leaving me to deal with the pearls burning a hole in my pocket. It was almost Sunday. That's what kept me going. The thought that Sunday was a few days away. Nothing can bring me down. I'm a treasure hunter now.

"I was thinking. I didn't mean to stare." I explained, nudging Sam with my shovel. "Get up. Yesterday we totaled three holes, that's ten less than what Munroe expects."

Recently, our camp director, to encourage us to work, gave us a digging limit. If you dig the given amount of holes, you're free to go to the dorms. If you have over the expected amount of holes dug by the end of the week, you get a free day when the next week rolls around. Link and I need that free day to look for treasure. Digging has a whole new meaning to me now. Instead of digging to make the day go by- I dig to claim that free day; to be something other than a boy with mommy issues and a criminal record. I dig to find treasure.

"Maybe if you spent as much time digging as you did staring at me we'd get somewhere." Sam flashed open her eyes, clearly waking up on the wrong side of the world.

I hid the blush creeping up on my face with another deathly glare.

"Maybe if you spent as much time digging as you did sleeping, or eating, we'd actually get somewhere. But no, you leave me to do all the work, just like usual. That's just typical Sam; never getting anywhere in life, and allowing others to take the blame for her."

She stood up; shaking the few pieces of dirt she gained from digging a hole to sleep in, and threw her shovel on the ground.

"I'm really tired of your stupid rants, Freddie. All you try to do is gain pity from everyone here. Well, newsflash, everyone here has owned up to what they did. Everyone here is just trying to move on with their lives, everyone but you. Grow up and stop feeling sorry for yourself, Benson. I fessed up to what I did- I'm sorry for ruining your perfect little life. Don't expect me to feel sorry for you. That's your mother's job."

After enduring that embarrassment, she continued the rant, her words echoing throughout the desert.

"Oh, and while I'm at it, _would you freaking call your mom? _Every phone call with Carly- that's all I hear. _Mrs. Benson is so worried about Freddie. Mrs. Benson is driving me crazy. Mrs. Benson cries all the time. _I know you're angry, but it's not your mom's fault. Don't blame her for something you would've done. She may be a wacko, but sending you here to erase a crime from your permanent record was the most rational thing she's ever done, and you know it.

I was enraged beyond degree. I knew it, too, because when I get extremely angry I start to shake, and I was shaking like jello.

"Are you done? Good. I don't expect your pity, nor do I want it. As a matter of fact, I pity you, Sam. At least this is the only blemish on my record. At least I_ can_ move on after this incident. You can't. You've gone too far already. You lost your mother's attention long ago, and with this altercation, you've lost your precious sister too. How does it feel, Sam? How does it feel when your family gives up on you? Looks like the only person left that believes in you is Carly, and you know as well as I do _that_ won't last long. Don't you ever expect me to talk to you again, Sam. Oh, and you're right; this isn't my mom's fault, it's yours. Looks like you've lost me, too."

Her face looked like a tomato about to burst. The red from her cheeks made her blue eyes look brighter than ever. She picked up the shovel and started to storm off, but changed her mind and turned around. She threw the shovel down one last time. It landed at my feet.

"You can take that shovel and shove it up your-"

One of the other campers must've alerted Mr. Munroe, because he slapped his hand down over Sam's shoulder before she could finish her sentence. She jumped, clearly not expecting anyone to be around her while she was this angry. He eyed me coldly, his muddy brown eyes switching between Sam and me.

"Lincoln," he said, motioning for Link to come to him. Link had stood by awkwardly throughout the entire heated debate, cracking his knuckles and clearing his throat occasionally. Lincoln walked up to Mr. Munroe with a look of anxiety on his face, "Yes, sir?"

"Call the other campers to the meeting area. Looks like these campers need to learn how to be a team. Bring the survival kit, while you're at it. It's in the office."

Lincoln nodded, but seemed confused. "Uh, survival kit, sir?"

Mr. Munroe shook his head gravely.

"That's right. There's only one thing that can bring people together and teach 'em a lesson all in one: a week in the desert. Alone."

* * *

**_A quick update, as promised.. hope this increases your trust level! I will be hard at work on this until my break from school is over.. then I'll be hard at work on homework. :[_**

**_Hope everyone had a pleasant New Year! My first update of 2012... wow. The year of change, as I like to call it, is here!_**

**_-D'neice _**


	7. Meaningful Letters

Carly awoke to panicked beating at the door of her apartment.

"Spencer!" She yelled, groggily, "Someone's at the door!"

He replied with an extremely loud, obviously fake, snore.

"Fine," she groaned, tossing her purple and pink covers aside, "I'll be the adult here!"

The alarm clock read 8:30. _Way _too early for a girl who believed in beauty sleep to be awake, especially on a Saturday. _What insane person gets up this early on the weekend? _Carly grumbled every step until she reached the door. When she opened it, Mrs. Benson spiraled into the room, tears staining her cheeks.

"Mrs. Be-"

"My boy, he's- he's far too young to-"

Carly grabbed her by the shoulders. She had learned years ago this was the only way to stop a crazy person.

"Mrs. Benson, what's wrong?"

It wasn't the best question, she soon realized afterwards, because Mrs. Benson flung herself onto the couch and practically ripped up Spencer's favorite pillow.

"Freddie," she said finally, nearly five minutes later, "he called me."

Carly wanted to smile. It had taken Freddie almost two months to call his mother. That was an achievement. But she knew this was no time for smiles. Crazy might just wipe it off her face.

"Then what's the problem?"

Mrs. Benson struggled for words. When she found them they jumbled out quickly.

"That horrible camp director's making them survive on their own for a week in the desert! Alone! With barely any food! Why, I have mind to sue that camp. They can't send my poor, poor, pale, weak, sensitive little boy out there in that.. that death trap!"

Carly tensed. "Wait- they? Who's they?"

Mrs. Benson's faced transformed from concerned parent to murderous parent in all but a second.

"Who else? That malicious, vile, horrid, atrocious, repulsive, _unspeakable, _Sam Puckett, herself."

**:*) **

The dial tone buzzed loudly in my ear, reminding me patronizingly that my _one_ phone call was over. I was stunned, though I shouldn't have been. I knew right and well that mom would freak out the minute I'd told her about the whole, 'surviving in the desert with Sam-Puckett without adult supervision,' ordeal. Knowing her, she'd send in an entire swarm of helicopters just to rescue me.

After swearing off communication with mom, calling her again had left me with mixed emotions. So, when she answered with her seven o'clock in the morning, buzzed on coffee liveliness, I spilled my guts right then and there.

"Hey, mom, I'm going to be forced to stay alive in the desert for a week with a survival kit and Sam Puckett." I had said, not stopping to take a breath. She replied by yelling, "_**What!**_" in my ear. Then she hung up and left the dial tone to keep me company.

"Well, this is just great," I said, just as a girl with leathery tanned skin tapped my shoulder impatiently. She grabbed the phone from me and punched in a few numbers. I stood there awkwardly, forgetting momentarily where I was.

"Um, back off buddy," she growled, shooting me a glare. I rubbed my eyes sleepily. "Sorry," I mumbled, walking towards the digging spot.

"Any luck with your mom?" Link asked me, smiling anxiously as I picked up my shovel and started a new hole.

"Yeah," I said simply, shrugging. I decided not to tell him about the talk, hoping Link would just drop the subject altogether. He didn't.

"Y'know, I haven't seen Sam all day," Link said.

"Good," I shot back, "The day just got a little bit brighter."

Link shrugged and we dug in silence for the next few hours, until Mr. Munroe ordered the campers to head to the dorms.

**:+O**

I eyed the dust blowing outside a dug-out window in my dorm room. Windows weren't really allowed, but whoever had stayed in the dorm before me must've been a real rebel. Looking out at the desert as the sun began its descent made me think of the hours I spent on the fire escape, listening to the sounds of blaring car horns and ambulances whizzing through Seattle. I watched so many sun sets out there on that ledge..

Watching the far off desert reminded me of the punishment I soon had to endure. Two days..no, technically one. I had _one _day left of freedom. One day to hunt for treasures with Lincoln. I was going to make the best of it.

The thought of Lincoln sent my eyes dashing across the room, searching for any sign of him. I heard his cough a few rooms away, towards the infirmary. I was really beginning to worry about Link- it seemed if he wasn't digging, he was stuck up in the infirmary, being treated for some mysterious malady. He wouldn't tell me, or anyone else for that matter, what was wrong, he just said he was sick occasionally and sometimes got the chance to opt out on digging days, sometimes weeks.

Did I believe he was just sick? No. It seemed much worse than a sickness, especially if it had lasted this long. Perhaps that's why I found myself digging into his stuff, pulling out his drawers and reading few letters he had received. One of them looked formal and said:

_Lincoln,_

_Your results came in a few days after you left, with no sign of any cancerous cells returning. As far as I can say, you need to take a few more treatments- then you'll be considered a cancer survivor. I hope you fair nicely in the desert. Hopefully you'll rake in that money fast. Your mom seemed really upset about the whole ordeal, but I think you've done the right thing, Lincoln. It was awful brave of you to step up like that. Believe me, if I had any other way to cut down the cost of the chemo I'd offer it. You'll be out of the desert in no time, I'm sure of it. Don't forget to drink plenty of water and take as many days off as needed with your condition. Nurse Gertrude at the camp has received the last of your treatments and is trained to do the job. I'll attach an official excuse paper along with this one, to assure your absence from the field isn't without due cause._

_Live life and prosper,_

_Dr. Drew Tarnszi_

I let out an audible gasp, my eyes bulging at the words, "cancer survivor."

"Find what you were looking for?"

Link's harsh tone surprised me. I threw the letter down on his bed and turned to face him. He looked tired, to say the least, but his eyes held a certain flame that told me he wasn't a happy camper.

"I-Uh- you-"

He marched over and jerked the note off his bed and shoved it back into his drawer, slamming it shut.

"You just had to know, didn't you?" He said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just couldn't believe me when I said I was fine, huh?"

I wasn't sure what to say. I had never seen him so angry. It just didn't suit him.

"It's cool, whatever," he stormed over to my side of the room, pulling out my drawer. "Let's just see what you're hiding in here."

He ripped open a medium sized envelope that had fallen out of the drawer. A paper flew out of it like a feather and landed softly on the floor. Attached to it was a picture of Sam and me at my last birthday, her arms wrapped around my shoulders and her smile bigger than ever. Below the picture were a few sentences I had memorized by heart:

_Frednub,_

_I know we don't get along all the time, but that's what friends do, I suppose; argue. I'm not gonna' beat around the bush here or anything, so.. Freddie, I like to think of you as a lot of things; my punching bag, potato bag opener, guinea pig, foot stool, shoulder to wipe my hands on, official holder of my chicken when I have to use the bathroom- but most importantly- my best friend. Now, don't let this get to your head, and don't let Carly know I said it. After all, I wrote the same exact thing in her birthday card last year- minus the punching bag part. Okay, well, hope this will suffice for a birthday present, since that's all you're getting._

_Oh yeah, happy birthday you big glob of nerd._

_-Sam_

Lincoln read the note with a slight evil smirk tugging at his lips. When he finished, he looked at me and tsked. "Oh, yeah, looks like you _really_ hate her. Why didn't you tell me you were so close? Hmm? Guess this makes us even then, huh?"

He threw the paper down and got into his bed, sliding the covers up over his face.

I was speechless for a few minutes, but finally forced myself to pick up the letter and place it back in my drawer. Anger was the last thing I was feeling, oddly enough- I think I was all angered out. After spending the last few days in an angry state, feeling that way again would just take too much of my already depleted energy.

I crawled to my bed and forced my eyes to close. Before I nodded off, I whispered, "Sorry," and waited for a reply.

It never came.

* * *

**Yayay! Another speedy (somewhat?) update! You can't tell- but I'm patting myself on the back right now. I have so many wonderful ideas for this! I can't wait to write the next chapter.. let's just say.. a few surprises are in store! :D**

**Oh, and if you didn't already see- I changed the genre from friendship to adventure. Just to give you all a little hint as to what the rest of the story entitles... **

**Okay, enough joyful rambling, thanks for reading and I'll write to you again soon!**

**-Accidental Laughter**

_**PS. I love being back!** _


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