


Cause and Effect

by daielight



Category: iCarly
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-01-19
Updated: 2009-08-15
Packaged: 2013-07-28 14:45:55
Rating: T
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,897
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4805275/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1385210/daielight
Summary: For eveything there is a cause, with every action, an effect. Over the course of this story, choices will be made, hearts broken and lives permanently altered.





	1. Introduction

**Title: **Cause and Effect

**Summary: **They made a choice. Then they made another. Now they're drowning in the consequences. [SEDDIE] for Rose Red Misery's "SeddieIsPregnant" Challenge

**Disclaimer: **As you have all probably guessed, I DO NOT own iCarly, the characters or any of the songs referenced in this story.

**-------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter One: **Introduction

PART ONE:** SAM -- **A series of firsts

**S**am sat on her bed, back pressed against the wall, eyes closed tightly as she tried her best not to cry. The painfully metallic taste of fear dwelled on her tongue, and her nails dug into her flesh as she tried futilely to stop the tears from escaping her eyes.

_The warmth of his lips pressing against the curve of her waist, his tongue tracing a line to her belly button, her shirt pushed up over her bra._

She sniffled as she stared down the phone, her eyes trying to focus despite the water blurring her vision. She let her hands trace their way down from her bare arms to her lower abdomen.

_She moaned as his lips came back up to meet hers. She watched him through half-closed eyes, his dark brown eyes holding the slightest hint of fear. She leaned up, placing a hand against the back of his neck and leaning up in an attempt to increase the pressure._

Tears started to flow from her eyes, dripping with an unexpected ferocity off of her face. She tried to hold back the sobs that were threatening to accompany the tears; she preferred to cry silently.

_She made the fist move, unbuttoning his pants and tugging at the waist. That's when everything changed. Forever._

Sam reached down to pick up the phone, pressing the little buttons that made up Freddie's phone number. As she waited for him to pick up, she looked down and the small blue pregnancy test, the little blue positive sign brining on another wave of tears.

For the first time in her life, Samantha Puckett was _scared_.

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PART TWO:** FREDDIE -- **When she tells me

**F**reddie squinted over at the clock, his mind still slightly asleep. Little glowing numbers told him that it was roughly 5:30 on a Saturday morning. He groaned and flopped back onto the bed, trying to ignore the annoying music that was coming from his phone. He groaned, and pulled a pillow over his head in an attempt to block out the annoying sound. He was halfway back to falling asleep when he recognized the ring tone.

He was wide awake with the phone open and pressed against his ear in moments. Worry lines etched themselves into his face before either of their mouths had opened.

"Sam?" Freddie asked urgently. The only reason she would call him at a time like this would be if something was really wrong.

"Uh-huh," Sam's voice was thick with tears.

"You ok? What's wrong?" he asked quickly, dreading the answer.

"Freddie…" she trailed off and he could hear a sad little hiccup on the other end.

"Sam just tell me, it's ok." He was able to say it in a way that sounded truthful, covering up the fear that he was feeling.

"I'm pregnant."

The two words sent Freddie's mind reeling. Of all the things that had gone through his mind, all the possibilities, this one had never even occurred to him.

"Do you want to come over and," he searched for the right words, "we can talk about it?"

"I thought I'd try to get some sleep."

"Yeah, that's a good idea." He sat still for a moment, then asked, "do you want me to come over there?"

Sam was silent on the other end of the line. Freddie waited for an answer, not sure what he wanted, not sure if he would be able to make it over there if she said yes. This was hard for him too; it affected him as well as her.

"No. I think I'll be fine."

He could hear her bluff, but didn't call her on it, choosing the easier way out. "Ok then," he said quickly, "see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Tomorrow," Sam sighed. Freddie waited until she hung up the phone, then flipped it shut.

In the future he would look back on that moment and wish he could have done it differently, though over the course of the next few months, there would be a lot of obstacles and events that he would wish they had conquered differently. Though at that moment, he realized something that would change his life forever.

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PART THREE:** CARLY -- **A bit like the movies

**C**arly sits with her arms resting on the counter, a highly concerned expression frozen to her face, as she waits for her best friend to come through the door. There is a small container of ham sitting on the edge of the counter across from Carly, placed there the moment Carly got off the phone with Sam. The tone that Carly had picked up in Sam's voice had scared her more than she likes to admit, so Carly sits as still as she can, trying her very best to stop herself from running through all the possibilities. But the longer she remains still, the harder it is for her to keep her mind from all the terrifying possibilities.

Just as Carly starts to loose control over her mind and the possibilities that it is coming up with, the door opens and Sam walks through, eyes focused on the floor. Carly leaps of the chair and walks over to Sam as quickly as she can without running.

Sam just sinks onto the couch, letting her hear loll back onto the pillows and closing her eyes. Carly sits beside her, taking in Sam's rough appearance.

"You ok?"

Sam opens her eyes slightly and Carly sees tears welling up in them. A moment later Sam finds herself enveloped in Carly's arms.

"What's wrong?" Carly's voice is quiet as she rubs Sam's back gently.

When Sam is able to find her voice, she repeats what she told Freddie that morning, adding that Freddie is the father. Carly is surprised, though not only by the information of her best friend's pregnancy, but the information of who was the other half of the problem was, if possible, even more shocking. Not that Carly would have ever expected Sam to end up a facing a teen pregnancy, but the fact that she was close enough to Freddie to have shared something that intimate with him was _very_ shocking.

"You're with Freddie?"

Sam shruggs under Carly's arms. "I don't know. It was really just a one-time thing."

Carly pulls back and look at her. Sam's face crumples.

"I really don't know what to do Carly! I really, really _don't _know what to do." Sam collapses onto Carly's lap, and Carly rubs her back in attempt to calm her down.

"We'll figure it out Sam. I know we will." Carly reassures, her voice soothing.

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**THANK-YOU to the songs 'Broken' by **_**Lifehouse**_** and 'Hide and Seek' by **_**Imogen Heap**_** for getting my brain working. Thanks also to the songs 'Brave Face' (though this one kinda just distracted me… .) by **_**Delta Goodrem**_**, 'February Air' and 'Drive My Soul', both by **_**Lights**_**. And of course, thanks to the song the entire fic is based on 'The Freshman' by the **_**Verve Pipe**_**. Please review, I really want to know what you think. This is my first attempt at this kind of fic, so **_**please**_** help me out.**


	2. Blood and Vomit

**Excuses of the day: I LOVE commas. I REALLY don't think I'll be good at angst. I've been **_**attempting **_**to research pregnancy, but all the information I'm getting is for people who are expecting and wanting to be pregnant. I really loved all your reviews, but (yes, I'm spoiled) I'd be much happier if I got more… (is **_**extremely **_**competitive. you'd understand if you knew the people I do)**

**Enjoy Chapter Two, PART ONE!**

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**SAM -- Blood and vomit**

The blunt rawness she felt at the back of her throat kept her from dozing off, her head resting on the edge of the bathtub beside the toilet. Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun in a futile attempt to keep her hair out of her face as she vomited. It had worked at the beginning, but now strands were escaping from the elastic that was holding them together, protesting their confines and plastering themselves to her damp cheeks.

The strong smell of roasting ham wafted under the door, making her stomach roll as another wave of nausea threatened to overcome her. She tried to breathe in using her mouth, but the smell seemed to be implanting itself on her taste buds, making her stomach balk and roll with a ferocity stronger than before. She lowered herself onto the ground with shaking arms, trying to find a comfortable position on the unforgiving bathroom floor.

She was up again in mere seconds, body rigid as she heaved into the waiting toilet bowl. A few of the loose strands of hair managed to swing their way into the line of vomit, their light blonde sheen reduced to a dull reddish colour as they were coated in the contents of Sam's stomach.

She leaned back, wiping her mouth with the lower corner of her shirt and glaring sourly at the toilet bowl. The knowledge of what the cause of these periodic and previously unexplainable vomit sessions had been far from relieving. Sam started to stand up, using the counter as a support and flushing the toilet hastily. She then proceeded to rinse out her mouth with water, the freshness of it soothing.

She pulled her shirt up over her head, dropping it on the floor with the pile of dirty vomited-on laundry that she had been meaning to wash for the last few days. She turned the shower on, getting in slowly, so as not to get dizzy, and rinsed off under the warm stream.

She finished quickly, exhaustion overcoming her desire to get completely clean. She switched the water off, pulling open the shower curtain and stepping onto the new bathmat on the floor, careful to avoid the splotches of vomit on it's dark blue surface left behind from earlier that morning.

Sam wrung the water out of her hair, wrapped the towel around herself and headed to her bedroom.

Her room was a mess. Books and food wrappers were mixed into piles with her dirty and clean laundry, magazines were piled on her bedside table in an attempt to minimize the mess, though it succeeded only in creating less space for the little aquamarine alarm clock her mother had given her on her 16th birthday. The little blue hands had miniscule fish stuck onto them, and the dial of the clock was rather child-like and cartoony, making it a rather tacky for a birthday gift. Sam, however, loved the little clock, as it had a hidden compartment in the bottom where she kept the two things that meant the most to her in the world.

The first was a picture of Carly, Freddie and Sam sitting in the iCarly studio, expressions that of surprise at the fact there was someone in the room taking a picture of them. The second item was the button off the remote Freddie had created at the start of iCarly. The button had been disconnected from it's remote during a fight between Freddie and Sam that had started over nothing and ended with Sam curled on the floor sobbing, Freddie attempting to comfort her with one hand on his forehead where the remote Sam threw had sliced open his skin. Blood was dripping down his face, coming from under his hand, though there didn't really seem to be much of it, the sight made Sam's stomach flip. Before Freddie could realize what was happening, she had vomited the contents of her stomach all over him and the beanbag chair. It had taken Carly and Freddie hours to wash all the vomit out of the chair. Sam had sat watching them, her stomach rolling and a bucket placed close to her right arm. This event had taken place a few days before she had taken the pregnancy test and been met with the positive sign.

Now she sank onto her bed, shoving a half-eaten bag of chips out of the way and flopping backwards into the mess on her bed. She closed her eyes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

**

"Sam! Saaaaaam!"

Sam groaned and opened her eyes slightly. The room was dark around her, a thin sliver of yellow light creeping into her room from under the door.

"SAAAAAAAAAAAAM! PHOOONE!"

"Got it!" called Sam as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and slipped down off the bed to pick up the cordless phone she had hidden under a pile of her clean clothes. "Hello?" she said into the speaker as she rested a hand on the bed, feeling a fresh wave of nausea overcome her. She reached into the pile of clothing to grab her favorite PJs.

"Sam?" Freddie's voice came from the other end of the phone, his voice was soothing to her, and she found her stomach lessen its crazed rolling feeling.

"Yeah, this is Sam," she pulled her pajama pants on and tossed the towel onto the floor, searching for one of her more comfortable shirts.

"How are you?"

"Better. Just a minute." Sam grabbed a shirt and pulled it over her head, "Ok, back. No wait." a wave of nausea crashed over her and she found herself clutching her stomach. "I've gotta call you—" she dropped the phone and dashed to the bathroom, getting her hair out of her face just in time. Whatever had been left in her system was propelled forcefully into the toilet. She got up and rinsed her mouth, glad that this round of nausea hadn't lasted very long.

As she toweled off and flushed the toilet, she felt her stomach growl loudly, snarling at her as if threatening her life. She sighed, then started back to her room, picking up the phone and heading down to the kitchen.

She'd been avoiding eating whenever possible, as the smells of the food made her stomach flip uncomfortably. Though her mother would probably get suspicious eventually, she was hoping that her mom wouldn't notice the aversion to food Sam seemed to developing. As she made her way to the kitchen for the first time in days, Sam dialed Freddie's number.

He answered after the first ring, fear strong in his voice. "Sam?"

"Yep," Sam pulled open the door of the fridge, holding her nose while she cradled the phone under her shoulder.

"What's wrong? What happened? Are you ok?" his voice was frantic, she could picture him pacing his apartment, fear in his eyes.

"I just had to throw up," she replied calmly as she reached into the fridge for a pear.

"But you're ok now?" the fear wasn't quite gone from his voice.

"Yeah," she paused to take an experimental bite out of the fruit. "Well… No, I'm not OK Freddie. I'm 16 and pregnant. How could I _possibly_ be _ok_?"

She could hear something happening on the other end. She could hear Freddie's muffled voice and what sounded like his mother yelling something at him.

"Listen, Sam, my mom's yelling at me right now. I locked myself in the bathroom to try and get her to leave me alone, but now she's just freaking out. I'm going to come over there tonight, ok? We really need to talk. Face to face."

"Yeah," Sam took another bite of pear and swallowed. She managed to sniff back the tears that were threatening to pour over. It was really strange how she couldn't control her emotions anymore. "Hey Freddie," she started, hoping he was still there.

"Yeah?" his voice was strained, though still filled with caring.

"Could you bring me a smoothie?"

"Of course."

Sam was sure she could hear a hint of relief in his voice.

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**How's **_**this **_**for a quick update!?? Thanks to the reviewers! Also, thanks for all the alerts and faves. They're much appreciated. I told you I probably couldn't write angst!! and I was sooooo right!! XD I'm hoping I'll get it more angst-y later on. Please leave feedback. I really need it.**


	3. Car Keys and Hand Holding

"**Not everything that happens is a Key to the major plot of life." **

**-- Mai **

**--------------------**

**FREDDIE -- **Car Keys and Hand Holding**  
**

He'd surprised Sam when he'd first told her just how much he hated driving. When she'd asked him why, on their way to a fancy restaurant where they were meeting Carly for dinner, he'd answered that it was just way too stressful, especially when she was there. This statement had resulted in Freddie receiving a vicious slap across his face, and, in the moment his attention was diverted from driving, he had twisted the steering wheel and almost driven them off the road.

Now Freddie was standing outside the door of his mother's car, fiddling with the keys he'd swiped off the counter before telling her he was going to visit Carly. He didn't like lying to her, but she kicked up such a fuss whenever he started to talk about visiting Sam, he'd learned to avoid the truth. He pushed the unlock button on the key and waited for the car to make its beeping noise, signaling to him that it was unlocked.

The smell of new car overwhelmed him as he slid onto the leather seat and started the car. He turned the stereo off, choosing to take the ten minute journey to Sam's house (with a delay to pick up that smoothie) in silence. It was much less stressful, even with the CD Sam had made him to 'help him not get so anxious while driving'. The thought was nice, the songs… not so much.

**

There was a little bookstore beside the Groovy Smoothie closest to Sam's house, its open sign glowing dully beside the large-windowed chain smoothie bar. The windows of the little bookstore held displays of books with colorful and intriguing cover designs, but what caught Freddie's eye was what he could see just inside the store.

He pulled the door open and stepped in, returning the greeting of the young woman perched behind the cash register flipping through a cooking magazine, then made his way to the back of the store where he had seen the section on books about pregnancy.

**

Freddie pulled into Sam's driveway with a strong sense of relief. The smoothie was balanced precariously in the drink holder, though the cup size was so large it didn't fit properly and swayed dangerously whenever he turned a corner; the plastic bag containing the tea and crackers on the seat beside him. Thankfully, now that he was safe in he driveway, he could feel the tension fading away quickly.

He shut the door behind him, enjoying the finality of it closing, and advanced up the steps; extra large smoothie in one hand and car keys being shoved into his pocket with the other. He started to feel slightly nervous as he walked up to Sam's front and knocked. He was greeted by a loud shout of '_Enter mortal!_', which he responded to by turning the doorknob and stepping into the house.

Almost immediately he was greeted by loud music coming from upstairs. "Sam?" he called, pulling off his shoes and placing them neatly just inside the door.

When he didn't receive a response he started towards the source of the music, climbing the stairs with the smoothie still held in his hand. When he pushed open the door, Freddie was greeted by the sight of Sam's room -in all its messy glory- and a disheveled looking Sam lounging on her bed, stereo remote in one hand and a pear core in the other.

"Hey, Fredward," she greeted in her usual drawl, eyes shifting to the smoothie. He smiled as she wriggled up into a more alert position, tossed the pear core at the overflowing garbage and held her now empty hand out for the food.

Freddie walked over and sat down on her bed, handing over Sam's chosen form of nourishment.

"Thanks," she smiled before taking a small sip from the straw. She gave slight grimace after a few moments, then took a larger gulp.

"Good?" asked Freddie, shifting into a more comfortable sitting position.

"Very," Sam smiled. "Haven't been able to keep much down lately…" her face contorted slightly, and he watched as she glanced over at the bucket near the opposite wall.

"You ok?" Freddie was instantly alert, body leaning forward slightly, ready to get her anything she needed.

"Fine," Sam placed the cup on the bedside table and sat up, focusing her gaze on Freddie.

Freddie shifted slightly, uncomfortable under her steady gaze. "You need anything?" he asked, hopping quickly off the bed in an attempt to divert her attention from the unavoidable subject he had originally come to discuss.

"I've been meaning to do some laundry…" Sam trailed off, then swung her legs over the side of the bed and settled on her feet beside him. "I'll get the stuff from the bathroom," she started towards the door, determination to get up off her ass driving her "could you get that stuff in the corner?"

Freddie nodded and started gathering up the clothing Sam had indicated. She was back in a few moments with an armful of clothing that seemed to have at least some sort of stain on it.

"Ready, Freddie?"

Freddie rolled his eyes and nodded, following her down the stairs to the laundry room. They worked silently, sorting the clothing into piles and shoving it into the machine. They were heading back up the stairs in no time. Freddie following closely behind the girl that was now carrying the proof of their actions inside of her.

His mind reeled slightly whenever he thought about it, though now it was getting easier for him to comprehend. A sudden wave of questions enveloped him, and his curiosity soon overtook his fear.

They'd made their way back into Sam's room, Sam immediately sinking down onto the bed and putting her feet up. She moved over slightly and indicated he sit beside her.

Once settled, Freddie sat still, unsure of how to open the subject, afraid of what would happen if he did. So they sat there in a slightly awkward silence, listening to the music Sam hadn't yet turned off; though it had been turned down considerably. They just sat for a couple of minutes, then Sam reached over and picked up the smoothie and resumed eating.

"How far along are you?" it was a stupid question, for him to be asking, but he wanted to hear it from her. He wanted to know what she was thinking about the whole mess.

"I dunno," she slurped at the smoothie, eyes cast down at the bed sheets. "Over two months," she set the cup on her lap, her voice quavering a bit. "I didn't know." Her focus shifted and he could see her eyes start to water.

Freddie took the large smoothie cup out of her hands and placed it on the floor beside him, then, unsure of what else to do, wrapped his arm around Sam.

She sniffled for a couple of minutes, wiping her eyes furiously, then settled down enough that Freddie felt it was ok to talk to her.

"What are we going to do?" it was the simplest question in the world, six words, easy words, and took so little time to say. The answers that came back to the speakers of this question were seldom so easy to voice.

"I don't know."

Fear enveloped Freddie. Sam wasn't the type of person to admit to weakness. She never gave anyone else the upper hand; never let anyone see that she was weak, that she was human.

She turned her body so she was nestled under Freddie's arm, curling up into a little ball beside him. He responded by rubbing her back slowly, thinking about the options presented to them:

One: Sam has the baby and they give it up for adoption.

Two: Sam has the baby and they keep it.

Three: Sam gets an abortion.

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**Honestly, I just though that this would be a really good place to end this chapter. It's just so cliffhanger-y.**

**I must thank my beta, SquishyCool, for all the help and support she's been supplying. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it means a lot to me. =)**


	4. Discussions and Decisions

**Ok, so thanks to everyone who has reviewed and expressed their opinions and said how much they liked the story! Also, thanks to SquishyCool for betaing this story, doing so much research, and helping me plot out the story that is… Cause and Effect.**

**Enjoy!**

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**SAM & FREDDIE – **Discussions and Decisions/The Little Bump

Sam wasn't the type of person to ask for help. She wasn't the type of person to admit that she didn't know what to do... She definitely wasn't the type of person to ask for help. But now it was different. Now it wasn't just about her anymore.

**

Sam woke up on her own, and was met by a strong feeling of loss that swept over her and blocked out everything else. She rolled onto her back and let out a deep sigh. Light was pouring in through the window, illuminating her room with a bright yellow morning glow. She frowned as she took in the room's appearance, then sat up, eyebrows furrowed.

Her usually disastrous room was now spotless, the floor visible in every part of the room, the garbage can was empty and clean, the piles of dirty and clean clothes were gone completely, and the wood floor that had been hiding under the mess for months looked as if it had been scrubbed for hours.

Sam sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, ready to go wash away the night with a shower, but at that moment Freddie came in, a basket of folded clothes held in front of him. A look of surprise crossed his face as he closed the door behind him, and she followed his gaze as it drifted towards the clock.

7:25 a.m.

Letting her body fall back on the pillow, Sam turned her head to watch Freddie as he set the basket on the ground beside her dresser and started to put the clothing into their respective drawers. She noticed a small smile playing at his lips.

"You stayed?" she asked as she focused her gaze up at the ceiling.

Freddie frowned. "Why wouldn't I have?" he asked as he put the last of the folded clothes in the drawer and walked over, sinking down on the foot of the bed. Sam moved her feet out of the way and pulled herself into a sitting position. Once settled she shrugged in response to Freddie's question.

"Why would you have? I mean, you're mom's gonna be scared silly when she realizes you're gone, then pissed as hell when she finds out where you've been," Sam pointed out.

"She's fine. I talked to her this morning," Freddie paused to take a breath, "And anyways, we still haven't talked about what we're going to do."

Sam sighed, running her fingers through her hair and wondering vaguely how bad her bed head looked. "How about I go take a shower, we get some breakfast, and then come back up and talk about it?" she offered the proposal in a resigned and tiered voice. For some reason she didn't feel like making a decision; didn't feel ready to acknowledge the fact that they had to do something about it, that this problem wouldn't just go away on its own.

Freddie nodded and got up off her bed. "There anything you want me to get you?" he asked as she followed him into the hallway.

"Sure," Sam paused as she remembered to grab some clothing to change into, "There's a grocery store a few blocks down, could you get some peanut butter, ice cream, a jar of pickles, and some cranberry juice?"

Freddie rolled his eyes as he watched her root through all the carefully folded clothing he had spent hours on. "I'm guessing you're not going to give me any money?" he asked as she found what she was looking for and turned to face him, a pair of pants and a shirt in her arms that he could see was supposed to be covering her bright yellow bra and underwear.

Sam smirked at him, "If I had any money, you could feel free to help yourself to it." She squeezed past him and made her way towards the bathroom, rearranging the clothing in her arms as she went.

"You're going to pay me back, Puckett!" he called after her. She just laughed, pausing at the door to watch him disappear down the stairs. For once, she was glad her mother didn't take much of an interest in her life; if she did, Sam wouldn't be able to spend so much time with Freddie.

**

They were sitting on her bed, Sam with a plate of sliced up mango on her lap and a slightly annoyed look on her face and Freddie holding a bowl of ice cream with pickle chunks scattered over the top. Sam glared at him and took a bite of the slimy fruit. Freddie smiled and gave her an approving look.

"Once you've finished that, you can eat this," he gestured at the bowl he was holding and made a face. She answered by spitting some chewed-up mango at him. "Real mature," he muttered, wiping the sticky mess off his shirt.

"Yeah, well," she took another bite and swallowed, "you aren't the one with the weird cravings." She shoveled some more mango into her mouth as she kept her eyes focused on the bowl.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Freddie asked a question that threw Sam completely off guard.

"Can you see it?" his voice was curious, though held a rather quiet and shy quality she hadn't heard in his voice since the quiet suggestion that they should kiss two years previous.

"See what?" Sam placed the mango on the bedside table. She was slightly confused by his question, and it showed by the way her brow furrowed.

Freddie gestured at her lower abdomen, "Is there a bump or something?" His voice was gaining strength, though not much.

"Yeah," she made a grab for the bowl while his attention wasn't focused. It came easily out of his hands, only a slight grunt of indignation signifying he had even realized the bowl was gone. She took a large spoonful of the cold mess and sighed in contentment. "I couldn't get my pants on after the shower," she wrinkled her nose at the memory. They were her favorite pants, they used to fit her perfectly, but not anymore. "I had to wear these instead," she gestured at her leg where instead of jeans, Freddie could see dark grey sweatpants. "Not that none of my pants fit… They just weren't very comfortable. Plus, you came back early so I didn't have enough time to go through many pairs of pants." She didn't add that the fact she no longer fit into her favorite pants had triggered a bout of uncontrollable sobbing that had gone on for over seven minutes.

"Can I see?"

"The pants?" Sam looked at him with confusion plastered across her face. There was also a bit of ice cream on her chin which Freddie wiped off with his thumb before clarifying.

"No," Freddie pointed at her lower abdomen for the second time in the last five minutes, "The bump."

Sam shrugged and set the now empty bowl on the bedside table beside the mango, then she pulled the hem of her shirt up to expose the slight bump.

Freddie stared at it for a moment, then, without thinking, he reached his hand out and placed his palm gently on Sam's bare skin.

Sam tensed slightly, the feeling of his warm hand on her bare skin sent shivers up her spine as she remembered the last time he had touched her like this. Though it wasn't intimate in a romantic sort of way, the feeling was still one Sam would never forget, storing it deep within her mind along with the memories of her first kiss and… other things.

As Sam was trying to get her heart to stop racing, Freddie was running his fingers over the small lump. They sat like that for a while, Sam staring down at Freddie who was, in turn, gazing at Sam's belly with a fascination that seemed to be bordering on something else.

**

"So what_ are_ we going to do?" Freddie asked Sam as they stood outside Carly's apartment a few hours later.

"I dunno. I think I'm gonna talk to Carly about it for a bit, though. I need some feminine support, ya know?"

Freddie nodded. He was trying his best to be supportive, though he was starting to get annoyed with her constant excuses. And now that he had realized that there was something actually alive in there, he knew that he wanted to help her through this in whatever ways he could. "Just," he paused to take a breath, "remember I'll be there for you."

"Even if I get huge and people start talking shit about me?"

"Yes," Freddie smiled at her. "And if people start talking shit about you, I'll make sure they get what they deserve." He balled up his fists to demonstrate his point.

Sam laughed as she imagined Freddie trying to beat someone up. "So you'll be back in a few hours?" Sam asked as she knocked on Carly's door.

"Yep," Freddie nodded and smiled at her. Sam stood still for a moment, then shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet and kissed him lightly. At that moment, Carly pulled the door open and Sam let her weight sink back onto her heels.

"Hey," Carly was friendly, as usual, and stepped sideways to let Sam in.

"See ya later," Freddie waved at them as he started down the hallway.

"Where's he going?" asked Carly, frowning at his retreating figure.

"No idea," said Sam. "You got any ice cream?"

Carly turned to see Sam already halfway to the freezer and laughed. She closed the door behind her and followed Sam into the kitchen.

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**Hope you enjoyed this! Reviews are loved, positive feedback is adored, suggestions are wonderful. =)**


	5. Putting Others First

**Okai, so… relax and enjoy chapter five! :)**

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**SAM – **Putting Others First

"So, what do you think I should do?"

"I really don't know Sam," Carly paused to set her glass of water on the floor beside her. "It's really up to you and Freddie. I think you should do whatever you think is right."

They were sitting on two beanbag chairs in the iCarly studio, watching some clips on the TV screen above them. Originally, they had planned to hold an iCarly meeting that afternoon, but once Freddie disappeared off into the city, their conversation had drifted steadily towards the looming threat that was Sam's pregnancy.

Sam smiled in response to Carly's answer, not letting the fact that she had wanted someone to tell her what was right - what she should do - show on her face. She sat for a moment, watching the screen as it changed from image to image. It was a strange feeling for her, wanting someone else to tell her what to do. Usually she would do anything in her power to escape the advice of others, but now…

"Listen Carls, I really appreciate the help and all, but I've gotta get going," Sam stood up quickly, trying not to let sarcasm into her words. As she rose up from the beanbag, an idea began forming in her mind.

"Ok," Carly stood up too, following Sam as she made her way to the elevator. "So, do you think you'll end up coming back to school next week?"

Sam shrugged, not paying much attention as she weighed the pros and cons of what she was planning to do next. "Probably. And I will be at iCarly this week." She said before Carly could even open her mouth. Carly smiled and nodded.

"I hope you figure out what to do," her voice seemed slightly apologetic, as if Carly was aware of the fact that her best friend needed more than just a 'do what you think is best'.

Sam nodded and stepped into the elevator, watching as Carly turned and headed back over to the beanbags to keep planning the next iCarly.

**

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wondering if this was really the best idea. The door sat in front of her, its wooded surface cool as she rested her knuckles against it gently, waiting for the usual reckless courage that she normally felt when standing before this door.

For a moment she could feel her feet shifting and her body starting to turn away from the door, then she heard a click as the handle turned and the door opened. Sam took a step back, her reaction time back to it's usual standards, and tried to attain a friendly smile to give the person standing before her.

"Hello, Sam," Mrs. Benson's voice was friendly, and the smile that Sam was struggling to bring to her mouth was perched happily on her face.

For a moment, Sam debated running in the opposite direction, her feet ready to assist her in her flight. But she held back and returned the greeting. "Hey, Mrs. B," She paused to take a breath then said; "Listen, I've really got to get some advice on something… Could I come in?" It had to be one of the most polite sentences she had even bothered to waste on another human being. It defiantly wasn't of the same caliber of the conversations she had with the other resident of the apartment.

"Sure," Mrs. Benson shifted to let Sam walk past and into the Benson's apartment. She'd been in there plenty of times before, but never with only Freddie's crazy, overprotective mother.

They ended up seated at the kitchen table; glasses of water perched in front of each of them and a plate of cucumber cups in the center of the table.

"So, what did you want to ask me?" Mrs. Benson asked once they were both settled into their seats.

Sam sat motionless, trying to get the words to form in her mouth, but they wouldn't come. Instead she felt tears beginning to form in her eyes, the water blurring her vision and heightening her sense of discomfort.

Suddenly, Sam felt a warm hand settling over hers. The sensation was slightly unfamiliar, as there was really only one person who had ever used this means of comforting her, and he was off traipsing through the city instead of here beside her, where he should be.

This thought only added to her distress, causing her tears to overflow and slide down her cheeks. She wiped them away furiously, pulling her hand out from under Mrs. Benson's and blinking rapidly. She hated to cry, but it was becoming more and more usual these days. The tears seemed to just start pouring down the moment she thought about anything even slightly stressful or upsetting.

Once she had calmed herself down, Sam reached over and picked up one of the cucumber cups off the plate and took a bite. The food calmed her down slightly, and she felt herself relax. Once she had swallowed, she started to talk.

"I'm pregnant," Sam grabbed another cucumber cup as she talked, her voice becoming stronger as she told the story to Mrs. Benson, "and I really don't know what to do." She finished, popping the last of her cucumber cups into her mouth at the end.

Mrs. Benson nodded, her calm look never leaving her face. "So, what do you want from me then? Have you talked to your mother?"

"No, I haven't talked to my mom. I don't want her to know until it's absolutely necessary. And I need your help. I want to -" she stopped abruptly. "Why weren't you surprised when I told you?" her question took priority over that of the woman sitting across from her.

"I heard you and Freddie in the hallway today," she dismissed, "and I figured you must be pregnant. It was the only logical explanation for the conversation. Plus, Freddie talked to me about it before he left this afternoon."

Sam nodded, accepting the explanation as she looked around for more food.

"So, why did you ask _me _for help?" prompted Mrs. Benson.

"I -" Sam grimaced as she thought of how to word the answer without loosing all of her dignity. "I want to do what's right, and I want to make Freddie happy. Plus, I've got no idea what to do and I really need help from someone who knows how to handle serious situations." _That's it. My dignity is gone._

Mrs. Benson nodded and sipped her tea, eyes traveling around the room as Sam waited for an answer.

"Well…" Mrs. Benson started, "I honestly don't think you should go through with it."

Sam sat still for a moment, unease swirling at the corners of her mind. "So, you mean I should get an abortion?"

"Yes, I do. You're much too young to have to worry about a child," Mrs. Benson took another sip of her tea, then set it down and crossed her arms on the table, leaning forward slightly and focusing on Sam's face. "It's far too much work for someone your age, and I don't think you'll be ready, or capable, of raising a child for many years to come."

Sam nodded as she listened to all the fears she had been holding locked up were voiced and confirmed. She looked down at the table, tears starting to well up in her eyes once again.

"I know you could probably give the baby to another family once it was born, but do you really want to keep getting bigger and bigger over the next few months and have everyone at school talk about you? You're mom would also find out eventually, plus, there's all those things you'll have to go through during pregnancy like swollen feet and constantly needing to pee…" Mrs. Benson paused to let everything sink in.

"But what about Freddie?" Sam's voice was quiet as she asked the question, eyes bringing themselves up to focus on Mrs. Benson's face.

"Do you really want to drag him down with you? I know you don't usually pay much attention to what's happening around you, but Freddie tends to look out for you. And when you can't deal with it anymore, he'll be stuck looking after you and the baby…" Mrs. Benson's voice fell to the back of Sam's mind as the words that had been said so far hit home.

Any other time, Sam would have been annoyed at what she was hearing, but today, after no help from her friend, the words coming from Mrs. Benson's mouth seemed to be driving themselves straight to her heart. Sam sat still for a few minutes, a sense of detachment sweeping over her. It was only when Mrs. Benson asked her another question that Sam was able to bring herself far enough out of her old coping system to answer.

"So, how far along are you?"

Sam thought for a moment before answering, "Over two months."

"Well, if you decide to get an abortion, you'd better hurry up. You can't get one after your first trimester is up," Mrs. Benson stood up, gathering up the empty plates and heading to the kitchen.

Sam's mind reeled, the consequences of each of her possibilities overwhelming her.

"I could pay for the abortion, if that's what you decide."

Sam nodded. She felt drained suddenly, as if the entire world was resting on her shoulders. It was a feeling she had always tried to avoid, using whatever means possible. But she'd been changing since she started to become friends with Freddie. He seemed to bring out the good qualities in her she hadn't ever been aware of, and she had started to take on tasks and do things that took more effort than she had ever given before. But now, she found herself slipping into old habits, and taking the easy way out.

"It think… I think I'll probably take you up on that."

**----------------**

**So…. Who was expecting **_**that? **_**Ummm, please review. I greatly appreciate all the feedback you've been giving me, means a ton. :D**

**Thanks again to SquisyCool for all her hard work in helping me research and keeping my ideas coming. :)**


	6. Books, Clothing, Gift Cards

****

*standing in the gym before a government exam*

**"Well… what if you don't know the alphabet!!??"**

**I ask you to come up with a mental image of the lamb for now. You'll know what I'm talking about when you get there.**

**Thanks to SquishyCool for betaing this story and making sure I didn't scrap this chapter… :D**

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**FREDDIE -- **Books, Clothing, Gift Cards & The Fact That You're Now Dead Broke

The air was crisp and cool, spinning in hectic circles as it was expelled from the mouths of those exploring the city. The sun was bright, though its cold brilliance did nothing for the shivering city below. The stores lined up along the sides of the road seemed to huddle even closer, their windows displaying the contents of their stores and the people with their slightly reluctant faces as they eyed the world outside with looks of anxiety.

Freddie pulled the collar of his coat up closer to his chin as he braced his body against the waves of frigid air. He looked in some of the windows of the stores he passed, watching the people go about their everyday lives and wished for a moment that he could go back to having no serious problems and never need to worry about one of his best friends being pregnant with his child. It just seemed like too much for them to handle, once he really started to think about it.

He was still dwelling on these thoughts when he reached his destination. The shop was much larger than the ones he had been walking past for the past few minutes, with large automatic doors and windows plastered with advertisements and displays filled with toys and clothing for babies and children.

He walked through the doors with a slight sense of anxiety. He'd never had to venture into a baby store before this day, never known anyone that had needed any sort of child item; with the exception of his aunt, of course, though he'd never felt compelled to buy her or Stephanie anything. Now, as he walked into the store, warm air melting the tension the cold had created in his face, he took in the racks of tiny clothing with a sense of wonder.

He stood still for a moment, shifting his weight uncomfortably, unsure of where to start. He glanced around, searching for some indication of what a newborn child would need, and came up blank. The sudden and overwhelming realization that he was in way over his head engulfed him, and he felt his confidence slip.

"Can I help you with anything?" the voice came from behind him, causing Freddie to turn around abruptly.

"Ummm, yeah," Freddie shifted again, "I need to buy stuff for a new baby. But I don't know what I need…" he trailed off and waited for the much-needed information that the saleswoman could give him.

"Okay," the woman paused to survey the store. "Were you planning on buying… some of everything...?" she frowned as she searched for words. It wasn't very often that teenagers came through the doors and asked what they would need to buy for a new baby. Even more seldom that it was a teenaged boy asking for the help.

"… Sure," Freddie followed the woman as she made her way over to the baby clothing section of the store.

"You're going to need baby clothing…"

**

Two hours later Freddie was standing in the line for the checkout, a cart filled with baby-related items settled in front of him. There was a pile of little hats and blankets, ranging in colours and patterns; a few sleepers and a total of 11 information books, their titles ranging from From the Hips: A Comprehensive, Open-Minded, Uncensored, Totally Honest Guide to Pregnancy, Birth, and Becoming a Parentto The Expectant Father: Facts, Tips, and Advice for Dads-To-Be... and of course, What To Expect When You're Expecting, which the saleswoman had highly recommended, informing him that it was probably the best-selling pregnancy book out there.

On top of the books was a range of maternity wear, the patterns ranging from skulls, crossbones, and brightly coloured cartoons to more subtle and feminine colour tones. He'd picked out a dress and a few shirts, and a pair of pants that he thought would be the right size, judging by the size the pants he'd put through the wash were. But he decided not to buy any more pants, in case they didn't fit, so he settled on a gift card.

He'd also looked at a few car seats and highchairs, but decided to leave those for a little while, and until he'd gathered enough money to be able to afford anything again (books don't come cheap). He'd managed to save enough money to purchase a few pads for baby changing tables and a bassinet, making his purchases seem slightly random, though he'd been trying to sort the items into the cost and importance and buy the ones that fit the scale the best. He'd gotten side-tracked with the maternity clothing, however, and the clothing he chose for Sam had quickly gutted his wallet, leaving roughly five dollars that wouldn't be spent.

As he pushed the cart forward, Freddie's eyes caught the shape of a little stuffed lamb, seated on a small display shelf in the middle of the now crowded store. It was perfect! He pushed the cart forward - luckily the line was moving rather slowly - and dashed across the store to snatch the lamb off the rack from beside a strangely coloured teddy bear. Once it was in his hands, he remembered to check the price tag. As he made his way quickly back to the cart, he looked down at the tag, mentally praying that it would fit in his price range. The little red sale tag filled him with relief: the $3.99 was an added bonus which caused a smile that dissolved the frown that had been clinging to his face for the last hour or so.

Tossing the lamb into the cart as gently as he could, Freddie rejoined the line just as it started to move again, pushing the cart forward a few inches before stopping again and leaning on the cart.

As he finally reached a cash register, he realized that he wouldn't be able to carry everything home, so he tugged his phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed Carly, handing over a wad of bills as the cashier scanned all the prices, the numbers on the screen getting larger with every beep.

"Hello?" Carly's voice sounded from the other end, the dialogue from a TV show making it slightly difficult for him to make out her voice from all the noise.

"Hey, Carly, it's Freddie," Freddie smiled a the cashier as she handed him his change. "Listen, I need you to do me a favour and come pick me up. I'm at that baby store a few blocks from the apartment building," he struggled to load the bags onto his arm in a way that would be comfortable.

"Sure, I'll be right over," Carly replied, and Freddie could hear the TV being turned off and a door being pulled open.

"Thanks," Freddie stepped outside and found a spot to wait, still holding the phone to his ear when the cold air hit him full on.

"See you in a few minutes."

Freddie waited on the sidewalk, coat pulled back up to his chin, bags surrounding him, for what seemed like hours. Finally, Carly pulled up in the little blue-grey car that the three friends had bought, intending to share it evenly between them, but with Freddie's fear of driving and Sam's lack of need, Carly ending up with the high end of the deal. She hopped out with an apologetic look on her face and hurried over to grab a few bags.

"Sorry I took so long, just as I was leaving Spencer needed help finding something for dinner and then I couldn't find my coat…" she made a face as she popped the trunk and helped Freddie load it with the bags. "You sure did get a lot of stuff…"

"Yeah…" Freddie shrugged, "But I figure it's worth it, if it makes her feel better about it all."

Carly nodded as they got into the car, pulling the doors on the old car shut with a loud bang. Though the outside of the car was old and chipped, it ran fine; with only minor difficulties and occasionally one of the doors had problems shutting. Freddie adjusted the seat, shifting it into a more upright position, and snapped the seatbelt in as Carly pulled back into traffic and headed back to the apartment, flipping the radio on as she did so.

"So, you guys been talking about this much?" Carly asked as they slowed to a stop at an intersection.

"Not really," Freddie shifted, "though we did talk about it this morning for a little bit."

Carly nodded, a slight sense of dread overtaking her, "So, you've decided to keep it?"

"Yeah, I guess. I don't see why not, I mean, she seems to want it now," Freddie closed his eyes as the car started to move again. He'd somehow gotten very attached to the little bump that would eventually become a tiny human being. Perhaps it was because the fact that he had created something made him feel truly important and significant for the first time in his life; or maybe it was because he couldn't envision Sam leaving him for some other guy, a fear that was constant, despite the fact they weren't even classifiable as 'together', if they had a child together; maybe it was just because he needed to show his mother he wasn't a child anymore, that he could survive on his own and support two other human beings.

Carly could sense that Freddie was deep in thought, and chose to let him think, even with the nagging sense of unease nagging at her gut. She'd seen that look of confusion in Sam's eyes that morning, and if history was correct, confusion and Sam led to some very rash and possibly harmful situations.

Moments later they were parked and loading their arms with the bags, Freddie carrying the bags of books and Carly carrying the clothing. Luckily, the lobby was empty, so they weren't forced to endure screaming about whatever way they were messing up in the lobby. They made it up the stairs without incident, Freddie setting down a few bags in order to fish a key out of his pocket.

After a few moments of debating, Carly and Freddie unpacked the bags onto Freddie's bed, where they were then sorted into piles of baby clothing, maternity wear, books, extras, and the lone stuffed lamb. Freddie surveyed the items on the bed with a sense of pride.

He had just completed his first mission as a father-to-be.

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**So… just 'cause the chapters are getting longer now, doesn't mean the word count per chapter is going to keep climbing. XP**

**Thanks for all the reviews! Hope you enjoyed this chapter… and… umm… nope, I forget what I was going to say.**

**"Come back Sunday, everyday's a Monday now that you're gone" (# 1 Summer Jam by Butch Walker)**


	7. Danger of Choice

**And finally, the next chapter is here. Thanks to SquisyCool for the betaing and all the hard work!**

**-.-'**

**Clear things up: they're 16/17. Even if the math doesn't add up from earlier.**

**----------------------**

**SAM** -- Danger of Choice

Sam woke from her dream with a thin layer of sweat coating her body. She kicked her legs to loosen the quilt that had wrapped itself tightly around her during the night, cocooning in her legs and body. She thrashed, panic blocking out her sense of reality and adding to that foggy sense of the world that is always present in the morning.

Tears trailed down her face, playing a hopeless game of tag before dropping off into the unknown world. She thrashed, her confusion overwhelming, only to find herself calling out loudly, screaming for help in the thick silence. As her leg took a more violent swing against the bed sheets that trapped her, a strong pain erupted from her lower abdomen.

Memories of the previous day sliced through her confusion; memories she would have loved to shove out of her mind for the rest of her life.

**

_It took Sam sixteen and a half hours to make a concrete decision; sixteen and a half long hours spent pacing through her room or consuming copious amounts of food while seated in her living room, the TV blaring and a blanket thrown haphazardly over her shoulders._

_Now she was sitting in the passenger seat of the Benson's car, heat blasting at her from the vents, and the scenery dragging by slowly in the city traffic. Even at 2:40 in the afternoon of a Tuesday, traffic was still horrific, mused Sam as she rested her head against the cool glass of the window. _

_The car was quiet, the dull sounds of the radio station almost completely blocked out by the sound of the heater. Mrs. Benson had volunteered to drive Sam to the clinic, and Sam had accepted, though only because she didn't want to chicken out halfway there. Though Sam didn't know it, this was the thought most prominent in Mrs. Benson's mind as well: making sure that Sam got to the clinic and into the room where the abortion would take place. _

_A slight wave of nausea washed over Sam as the car started moving again after a particularly long stop at an intersection, the movement and heat triggering that feeling that she had only just begun to get rid of. _

"_So…" Mrs. Benson's voice startled Sam and she pulled herself into a less slouched position and switched her attention to the older woman._

"_So…?" Sam prompted after a few moments of silence. _

"_Do you need to be picked up after as well?" Mrs. Benson said as they reached their destination and pulled into the parking lot._

"_Nope. I'll be fine," Sam smiled weakly, reality hitting her hard as she stepped out of the car. This was really it. In four hours, it would all be done, no chance of changing it or taking it back. It would just be over._

_Mrs. Benson turned the car off and followed her through the front doors. The room was bright and had the air of a hospital: clean, sterile, and uncomfortable. Mrs. Benson led the way to the front desk, where she talked to the woman behind the counter. Sam stood quietly, taking in the scene around her and trying to stop herself from shaking._

_After a few moments, Mrs. Benson had sorted everything out and handed the woman the money. She then directed Sam to one of the chairs and sat down beside her._

_Sam let out a deep breath, mixed emotions swirling around inside her. There was a small part of her that was screaming for her to not go through with this, telling her that she would regret it, that she should've thought about it; the rest of her was split in between being terrified of how much it would hurt and relief that it was finally going to be over._

_They waited for twenty minutes, silence making the air heavy, until Sam was signaled to follow a middle-aged woman into one of the rooms._

_Mrs. Benson waved slightly, more of a twitch in her hand than anything else, then exited back out the front doors. For a moment, Sam wished she had stayed, but she quickly blocked the thought out of her head as she followed the woman into a room where she was then told what would be happening to her for the next few hours._

**

Sam rolled onto her side, wrapping her arms around her middle and lying as still as possible. As the pain subsided, she recalled the rest of the day. It hadn't been that bad... afterwards, she was uncomfortable and slightly drowsy, but the cab ride back had been horrible.

**

_They'd taken blood and urine samples, then she'd had to wait for another period of time, though now on her own. When they came back, they took her too a room where she lay on a table. The doctor was friendly, and she felt her nervousness slip away gradually. _

_It hadn't hurt as much as she'd thought it would, thanks to the anesthetic, though she'd started to feel uncomfortable after awhile. The actual procedure didn't take long, though afterwards they forced her to stay in a little room for a while to 'recover'._

_As soon as they'd let her she was out the door and in a cab headed back to her house. _

_She'd spent the ride back listening to all means of complaints from the cab driver, who turned out to be very anti-abortion. She'd managed to ignore him for a few blocks, but after one particularly nasty jab at her decision, she exploded at him. It was hard to recall what she'd said, as she was still slightly woozy from the medication, but she knew it had shut him up._

_From there it took them fifteen minutes to get back to her house, where her mother greeted her at the door with some sort of lecture on going to school. Sam had dodged the questions, which her mother had the annoying habit of asking when Sam least wanted to answer, and made her way upstairs where she sank into bed and fell into an uncomfortable sleep._

**

Now she was lying curled up in bed, wondering whether or not it was a good idea to go downstairs and raid the kitchen at 1:10 a.m. She knew her mother was sleeping, and that she'd be pretty annoyed if Sam woke her up, but now Sam was really hungry, and nothing stood in the way of a hungry Sam.

She walked quietly down the stairs and opened the fridge to find it nearly empty. Having two Puckett's in the house could become a problem when they weren't near a grocery day. She ended up taking a bowl of soup and some fruit that Freddie had brought her earlier back up to her room, where she ate quickly before falling back asleep... feeling a little less uncomfortable this time.

**----------------------**

**So I'm hoping you all enjoyed this, and I hope you keep reading. There is much more to this story than an abortion, believe me, and I'd appreciate it if you could battle through this with me. See you in the next chapter! **

**If you have any opinions on the way this is written, or little things that you think should be included, feel free to say. … Sorry it that wasn't clear enough. Been having trouble with writing things that aren't stories lately. XP**


	8. A Final Sort of Truth

**I know we're all brilliant, but just for a clarification **_**italics **_**are the flashbacks in this chapter, at least where it makes sense for them to be. We aren't going to throw some poor emphasized word or important thought into the past. (As fun as it could'a been… this be not time travel!)**

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Sam sat on the cool marble counter of the Benson's kitchen, her bottom lip drawn in slightly as she bit down on it. Her eyes held a rather solemn appearance as her gaze remained fixed upon the pale tiles of the floor; hands gripping the edges of her perch, knuckles white with the force exuded by desperate fingers.

She was waiting for Freddie to re-enter the room, bring with him whatever it was that he'd been so excited about showing her. Before the events of the last three months, Sam would have been thrilled, but after the abortion, everything he did for her was difficult to take. What made everything even more painful, was Freddie's ignorance towards the entire situation.

"_Hey, Sam."_

"_Hi, Freddie," she continued slowly down the school hallway, Freddie tailing close behind her._

"_You okay? You weren't at school yesterday."_

"_Yeah," Sam absentmindedly reached down to place a hand on her belly, before her mind caught up with her actions. There wasn't anything there now…_

"You okay?"

Sam nodded and smiled weakly at Freddie. He gently set the box on the counter beside her, reaching over to place a warm hand on her cheek. Sam responded by leaning into his touch and closing her eyes; she was so tired lately, though sleep didn't seem willing to come, and she was rarely able to drift off before the early morning had arrived.

They stayed like that for a few moments, time seeming to slow its pace to accommodate them. Freddie moved first, advancing slowly, pulling her closer to the edge of the counter and gently placing his lips on hers.

"_Samantha! Run, for Christ's sake! This isn't fair to the rest of your class!" the teacher's voice was raised to a shout, one arm waving wildly about as he indicated the other people circling the track at a pace much quicker than Sam's._

"_Sorry," Sam took the opportunity to attempt to relieve the pain she was experiencing in her lower abdomen, doubling over and using her fingertips to massage her belly. It had been three days since the abortion and she was suffering from terrible cramping, more often than not accompanied by severe nausea._

"_Start moving, Puckett! We don't have all day!" the gym teacher yelled before turning to the students he had waved in, dividing them into teams and giving the instructions on the day's activities._

_Sam straightened up, grimacing slightly before she took off around the field again, mentally kicking herself for not skipping the afternoon's classes. This was one of the few times she hated gym class. She spent the rest of the class jogging and stopping to fight down nausea, a strong sense of relief washing over her when the bell finally rang and she was able to follow the class back into the school._

"_Sam!" Carly's voice snapped her back to the reality Sam had been attempting to avoid._

"_Huh," Sam grunted, letting Carly pull her towards their locker; with school over for the day the halls were crowded, people rushing to gather their bags and get home for the night, making it a struggle for them to reach their destination. Sam received an accidental elbow to the chest, causing her to wince and swing her bags around to protect her chest. Carly gave her a worried look before shoving the offender into the water fountain. Sam snorted as Carly quickened her pace, trying to avoid the accusing glare of the now slightly damp teen._

She could feel his lips start to move, his fingers gently tracing down her jawbone before falling to her knee where it rested with a gentle pressure. She let the sense of security that accompanied the feeling of his lips on hers sweep over her, memories of the other times their lips had touched flooding her mind.

A deep sigh escaped her lips, giving away her high level of contentment and causing Freddie to deepen the kiss, his lips parting slightly and tongue running itself over her slightly chapped lower lip.

_His arms were wrapped tightly around her, her head resting on his chest. The wind tugged at their clothing, cold air snapping against their exposed skin and reddening their faces. They were standing on the sidewalk outside Sam's house, the door swinging wildly as the wind toyed with it, the hinges squeaking and moaning their complaints._

_A trail of tears ran down Sam's face, guilt dancing wildly behind her eyes, tearing her apart on the inside. Freddie rested his chin on her head, surveying their surroundings as he gently rocked the teary blonde back and forth, arms encircling her and hand rhythmically rubbing her back._

_In that nearly perfect moment, she'd almost told him what she'd done, almost revealed to him that she had destroyed his chance to become a father in the next nine months. The thought brought on a fresh wave of hysterics, and her sobs and hiccups were only calmed when Freddie started humming, a slight vibration making her cheek tingle where it rested on his chest. _

Sam pressed her lips into his harder, deepening the kiss with a fervency that surprised even her, though the moment's actions would be categorized as instinctual, rather than voluntary. In this moment she could feel herself releasing the emotional shadow that had been clouding every moment of her days: the desperate fear of what would happen when Freddie found out, and a deep and painfully unrealistic hope that Freddie would be able to forget about everything the ways she herself was finding impossible. All these thoughts flooded her senses, fighting to overpower the sense of contentment that she had only just began to feel.

Lips explored lips and tongues explored mouths as they delved themselves deeper into the kiss. The pressure on Sam's knee increased as Freddie fell sway to the heat of the moment, the light tickle of Sam's hair against his cheek reminding him of their first kiss; a much less heated encounter. As she felt Freddie's tongue pass through the now slightly open barrier and into her mouth, it occurred to Sam how perfect this moment truly was, if only for one factor.

_It wasn't the most comfortable chair, but for the moment the comfort of a classroom chair was the least of her worries. Sam squirmed as the teacher's voice carried on, the sound made almost worse by the two hands of the clock moving ever-so-slowly towards their destination, seeming to taunt her in her moment of need._

_2:53. 2:54… she grimaced, shifting her weight back and forth on her chair and chewing viciously on the inside of her lip._

_2:55… The second hand started to flick back and forth between the two points, causing Sam to leap up out of her seat and rush madly towards the door. Screw respecting the teacher. She had to _pee.

_Lucky for her, the bathroom was nearby, making the wild almost-ready-to-wet-your-pants hobble that accompanies those in desperate need of a toilet past only a handful of open classroom doors. _

_It was with a great sense of relief that she finally unbuttoned the top of her jeans, shoving them down t o land with a satisfying thud on the toilet seat and releasing a jet of urine. Somewhere during the time she was washing her hands, the bell rang, loud and obnoxious, followed shortly by a bubble of noise that signified the release of the mob of high school students. She gripped the counter for a moment, focusing on her reflection, then turned to fight her way back to the classroom to gather her belongings and attempt to talk her way out of a detention._

"_You forgot these," Freddie was leaning against the wall a few feet away from the entrance to the girls washroom, red checkered bag in one hand and old binder in the other. _

_Sam smiled slightly as Freddie handed over the items, facial expression taking on a slightly worried look as his attention shifted back to her._

"_You ok?" he lowered his voice and stepped closer to her, leaning closer to her as the crowd hurried past them. "You took off pretty quick in there."_

_Sam nodded, "I'm fine. I just really had to pee," she said, feeling slightly sorry for Freddie as she thought of how he must've seen her mad dash out the classroom door. _

_Freddie nodded and smiled, moving closer to her and pulling her towards him, leaning down so his mouth was beside her ear and speaking quietly, "So you and the baby are ok?"_

"_Yep," her face contorted into a rather sour look, an expression any passer-by would connect with the fact some moron was hugging Samantha Puckett, a rather dangerous activity to take place in in such a public area. "We're great," she forced her face to form a smile as she pulled away from him and stepped back. "See you tomorrow," she waved and joined the slowly thinning mass of students, hoping that Freddie could take the hint and let her be alone for awhile. She needed time to think._

_That had been the first time she openly lied to Freddie about the abortion._

She felt the pressure release from her knee, the slight tickle following his hand as it traced along her thigh to come to a stop at her still rounded lower abdomen, it's still visible bump a constant reminded of what could have been. _If only there were something under there to feel his love_; tears began wavering her vision as the thoughts of what used to be pressed down on her; she crushed her mouth against his, using the fact that the feeling of Freddie's body touching hers could battle away the pain.

For a brief moment, Sam felt as if she had won against the painful emotions, then the sensation of his thumb rubbing against the fabric of her shirt, a movement so obviously meant for the baby that it took down all the walls she had worked so hard to build up.

An overpowering wave of anger at herself and pity for Freddie seized her, causing her arms to shoot out against Freddie's chest, the momentum forcing him to stumble backwards in order to keep his balance. They stared at each other for a few moments; Freddie's face frozen in shock, Sam's looking angry, the kitchen lights making her eyes flicker dangerously.

Freddie made the first move, taking a slow step towards her and watching her closely to gauge her reaction. "Sam?"

She took in his cautious stance and worried expression quickly, and experienced a moment of pleasure at his worry before sobs overtook her. Freddie was there immediately, arms wrapped around her in a n attempt to calm her down, but she wouldn't have it this time.

"I'm so sorry Freddie," she managed to choke out between sobs, shoving against his body in an attempt to dislodge his arms. "I'm so, so sorry." She could feel her nose start to run, her vision blurring and making everything seem that much more out of her control. "I'm so, so sorry," she used her fists and arms to pummel his chest, attempting once again to dislodge the comforting arms that she knew she didn't deserve.

"For what?" Freddie asked, head held back slightly to avoid the worst of her blows, but arms refusing to let go.

"I…" Sam felt the fight drain out of her instantly, "I…"

Feeling her body start to go limp, Freddie tightened his grip on her, holding her against him in order to keep her standing.

"There's no more-" a pause as she tried to collect her thoughts. "The baby-"

Freddie felt fear trickle into his bloodstream, pumping quickly through his body and making his mind reel with the possibilities.

"I got it-" She swallowed, then forced the words out of her mouth, "I got an abortion. I got our baby killed."

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**Just wanna thank you all for the reviews! And also, thanks so much to SquishyCool for all her help, and writing the kissing snippet before the last flashback with Freddie and the bit after. I did add things in and take some bits out, but she still wrote the base! So… THANK-YOU!**

**Hope you enjoyed chapter 8! **


	9. Wrath of the Storm

**Switches with the characters. I'm done assigning POVs at the begging of each chapter, so please bare with me. **

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**O**ne moment of total silence, one blissfully quiet moment before the shock wore off and the anger took its place. His arms stiffened and he stepped back, Sam sinking quickly to the ground and landing with a dull thud on the hard tiles of the kitchen floor. Her eyes were red and swollen; her hair now a hectic mess and expression disoriented, but Freddie felt nothing towards her besides raw hurt and anger.

She just sat there under his broken gaze, crumpled, eyes daring not remove their stare from the ground. She remained in this vulnerable position until Freddie could no longer handle the silence.

"Why the _hell_ didn't you talk to me?" his voice was sharp, even to his own ears, cutting like a knife through Sam's foggy conscious. Freddie watched as Sam slowly picked herself up off the floor to stand before him, her stance resembling that of a beaten dog awaiting the next blow.

"I couldn't," her eyes pleaded with him; her face taking on the expressions that no one outside of her closest friends and family ever saw. He just glared at her, eyes steely and unforgiving. "Please, Freddie, I'm so sorry," she took a step forward and reached out in an attempt to gather his understanding.

"I need you to leave," he stepped back, face stony and hand indicating the door. He could feel the strength of his emotions as they began eating away at his insides, breaking down the walls of his containable rage to make way for a less containable emotion.

"Freddie, I'm really sorry," Sam's voice quavered as she stepped forward and reached out to touch his arm, tears still glossing over her eyes, ready to begin their descent down her cheeks.

At any other time, Freddie probably would have noticed the rarity of Sam's attempt to regain his compassion, but now he just shook her hand off his arm and turned his back on her.

"I'm sorry," her voice turned pleading, the desperation triggering in him not forgiveness, but the red hot anger that had been chewing at the cold fury, which broke through his barriers and swooped out at Sam in the form of vicious words.

"Leave _right_ now," he commanded, turning to face her once again, intent on sending every word straight to her heart. "Leave now or I _never _want to see you again."

"Freddie- " she pleaded once more, moving towards him, arms outstretched and pleading, tears now overflowing and tracing drunken patterns down her cheeks.

"_Leave," _he warned, voice stern, then knocked her outstretched arms away from him.

She drew a hand up to her mouth, pressing her fingers to her lips, then turned and rushed towards the door. Freddie closed his eyes and sank to the ground, back against the cupboard, and let his mind process the information it had just been fed.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, anger still flooding his system, coursing through his veins with a stunning ferocity; so he found it puzzling when he reached his hand up to find his cheeks damp.

--

**H**is words cut deeper than Sam would have ever thought possible; she'd struggled so hard to keep him out of her heart, to keep him out of her head; worked so hard to protect herself from a pain such as this. But now it was here; the scorching anger burning through her and slowly tearing her heart in two.

She stumbled toward the door, eyes swollen and vision blurred, unable to comprehend her surroundings, aware only of the raw need for the love of someone unwilling to even _look _at her any longer. So she let her shaking legs carry her to the only safe house she had left: Carly.

A blur of dark wood notified her that the door was blocking her exit mere seconds before her hand collided with the handle, giving her an unpleasant jolt as the metal knob shoved her joints together. Struggling to get her fingers to close over the knob, Sam swiped at her face with the other, trying to get the tears to stop flowing.

After a moments struggle, the handle was turned and Sam pushed her way through the door, passing the form of another human being; the collisions avoided when the larger person stepped quickly out of her way, spilling the contents of their shopping bag across the floor.

Sam's foot landed on the side of one of the boxes and she could hear the audible _crunching _sound it made, even over her loud hiccupping sobs. She stumbled forward, arm outstretched in an attempt to lessen the impact on the door, though succeeding only in injuring her hand further as it collided with the door.

For a moment, she stood like that, her wrist throbbing and her vision so blurred by tears that her awareness of her surroundings was made up only of her memories of this space surrounding her, before her legs gave out and her body slumped into the door. The cool wood scratched at her cheeks, the little grains tearing off the top layers of skin on her cheeks, though not drawing blood. Her hands were balled into fists, lying on the floor at her sides.

A sudden wave of anger engulfed Sam, and she lifted her fists to the door and pummeled it with her fists. The loud banging and pulsing pain signals sent to her by the wrist that had been suffering from her multiple collisions with solid objects kept her mind from sinking back into the despair that had overcome her. Thought the tears were still flowing freely, Sam could feel a much needed sense of power as she hammered her fists into the solid wood, feeling it give slightly under the force.

--

**C**arly wriggled slightly, adjusting her body so she could balance the pencil on the bridge of her nose. Blank notebooks and crumpled pieces of paper are scatted around her, some claiming their place on the bed, others scattered on the floor or resting in the basket of clothing that sat in the middle of her floor.

The emergence of an idea caused Carly to shoot up from her horizontal position, the pencil catapulting itself from her nose onto the floor where it was lost among the piles of clothing and books she had neglected to put away. After sliding off the bed and onto the floor, she began rummaging around for one of her iCarly notebooks.

Paper and other objects were shifted and tossed out of the way as she searched, trying to keep the idea in her head as she battled with her annoyance at Sam and Freddie's lack of help with the web show over the last few days. Though she knew they were going through a difficult time because of Sam's pregnancy, part of her couldn't help but be angry at the lack of assistance she was receiving. She had work as well! They weren't the only ones with problems!

Carly grumbled under her breath as she neared the basket of clothing that had been bumped down the priority list one too many times. Finally she found the duo tang; withdrawing it quickly from underneath her textbooks and rocking back onto her heels as she flipped it open to a blank page. For a moment she stared at the page, trying to call back the idea that had seemed so wonderful at the time. When she realized that the idea wasn't returning any time soon, she sighed, standing up and returning to her place on the bed, where she lay down again.

She closed her eyes, notebook and pencil within an arm's reach, and did some of the breathing exercises Spencer had taught her after a failed attempt at a yoga clinic. She sat like that for a few minutes, enjoying the way her annoyance faded away to be replaced by a relaxed feeling. She made a mental note to tell Sam about the technique, thinking it might come in handy the next time she felt like attacking one of her fellow humans.

A loud thud pulled Carly out of her calm state of mind. She sat up slowly, a frown painted across her face, and waited to see if the sound would come again. For a few moments it was silent, then a loud banging began. She got up slowly and made her way to the door, unsure of whether or not she wanted to leave her room and find the cause of all the racket quite yet.

When her glance out the open door revealed nothing, Carly decided that she wasn't going to bother making her way downstairs without asking Spencer to figure it out first. Her calls went unanswered, however, so she found herself trudging down the stairs towards the noise, which was getting less frequent by this time.

The wood of the staircase was cold against Carly's bare feet, bumping the turning on of the heat to priority one. She shivered slightly, annoyance at Spencer's lack of responsibility adding to her fire, resulting in her attention to, once again, shift away from her goals and onto the lack of attention paid to her by her friends and family.

A few moments of under-her-breath grumbling later, Carly was standing at the foot of the staircase, surveying the room for a clue to the source of the noise.

It was almost immediately that a dull thud sounded from the door. She shrugged and took the long way around, taking time to stop and turn up the heater. When she reached the door the thudding had stopped, though a low sniffling could be heard from her spot directly behind the door.

Carly stood for a moment, hand on the door knob, before opening it slowly.

--

**S**am could feel the door tilting away from her slowly, her body following the motion until her crumpled body was resting on the floor of the Shay's apartment, her head resting on Carly's bare feet.

"Sam!" the shocked voice cleared a small chunk of the fog away from Sam's mind, and giving her back the ability to recognize her surroundings.

She moaned and let her swollen eyes take in her surroundings. When she recognized the concerned face of her best friend leaning towards her, a fresh wave of pain overtook her, and she found herself clinging to Carly, sobs wracking her body.

Carly lifted Sam up into her arms, cradling the unusually fragile girl and making her way to the couch where she set Sam down gently, forced to follow Sam down as she refused to release her hold on Carly.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Carly's voice was gentle, her palm rubbing slow circles on Sam's shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

"The baby's - " a violent sob shook the blonde, forcing all coherent speech to cease.

Carly waited patiently, struggling to keep Sam calm.

"Freddie's never going - " she faltered, "It's dead and - "

"What's dead?" Carly felt as if the floor had disappeared; fear enveloped her as she waited for the two words that she least wanted to hear.

"The baby."

Horror overtook Carly as the realization of what had just happened dawned on her. "You just told Freddie," it was a statement, not a question. A statement which Sam responded to anyways with a short nod of her head.

"How…?" Carly trailed off as she the realization that now just wasn't the time to be asking such questions dawned on her.

"It…" Sam took a shaky breath indecision painted on her face, "It was a miscarriage."

It would take Carly only a few days to become suspicious of these words.

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**Thanks for the REVIEWS!**

**Huge thanks go to SquishyCool; her help and confidence in this story has really inspired me to write. Then I get all the amazing reviews from you guys…. It just makes it all so worthwhile!**


	10. Secrets of the Half Conscious

**Thank-You all for all the support! Here is the next chapter of Cause and Effect. **

**By the way, it's a few days before Christmas at this point in the story. Sorry I haven't really been including anything about that so far… I kinda forgot about it…**

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"So, you're sure you're up for this?"

"Yes, for the hundredth time, I'm fine with it."

Carly frowned, concern playing a lightning fast game of tag against the backdrop of her eyes, and burying deep into the crevices of her furrowed brow.

Sam appraised the look her friend was giving her, knowing only too well that the now taboo topic was sure to bring itself up if she did not redirect Carly's train of thought.

"I really am fine today," Sam forced herself to smile as she said it, trying hard to redirect Carly's focus to the first iCarly they'd done in weeks, since the beginning of the whole pregnancy fiasco.

Carly nodded, letting her lips form a half smile as she turned her focus onto what would be taking place over the next few hours. "So, I've gotta go talk to Freddie," she paused to take in Sam's facial expression, and when it didn't change, she continued "So if you come up in a few minutes…" she trailed off as she lifted herself off the kitchen chair.

Sam picked up one of the cucumber cups, which Carly had gotten from Mrs. Benson after listening to Sam's countless complaints, taking a bite out of it as if to signal to Carly that she would be fine left alone in the kitchen for a few minutes.

"So, see you up there in a few minutes?" Carly repeated, shifting her weight slowly from foot to foot, still unsure of whether or not going upstairs to talk to Freddie was really something Sam could handle.

"Carly, seriously, go upstairs," Sam let her tone fade in to one she might sometimes adopt while speaking to Freddie. "I'm going to be just fine on my own for a few minutes."

Carly nodded, then turned to make her way up the stairs, following the turns of the wooden steps until she reached the clear glass of the iCarly studio door. She paused, composing herself and running over the plan she had formed in her head. The mental list of all the things she wanted to say to him was limited by what she could say without getting him too angry. Finally, she pushed open the door and stepped in.

When she entered the room, Freddie was bent over his tech cart, attention focused completely on what was directly in front of him. She paused, then cleared her throat to alert him of her presence.

Freddie jumped slightly, knocking a stack of papers along with something small and black to the ground before quickly bending over to retrieve it and hide it from Carly. She stepped forward to help him clean up the mess, bending over and gathering the pale white paper into untidy piles.

Freddie stood up first, letting Carly lift the last of the scattered paper and place it back on the cart. They stood in silence for a few minutes, Carly fiddling with the zipper on her sweater and Freddie resuming his focus on the laptop, before Carly spoke.

"Have you talked to her at _all_ since last week?" her voice was slightly accusing, though she didn't mean for it to be so. Her plan hadn't been to lead with an attack, but who follows a plan in times such as these?

Freddie snapped his laptop shut, shifting his body into a stance that clearly illustrated he wasn't going to let Carly walk all over him. "I've said hello to her, in passing," he shrugged, "but she didn't seem eager to talk."

Carly raised her eyebrows, her lips parting to allow the questions as to how on earth he could treat Sam as he was to roll off her tongue. Though before she could utter the words, Freddie interrupted her.

"Why don't we just set this up and get it over with," Freddie suggested as he grabbed Sam's remote off one of the lower shelves and started over to the side of the room where they had a stack of pamphlets advertising for holiday getaways and resorts.

Carly nodded, letting her anger slowly fade away as she stood beside Freddie and assisted him in setting up the web show. They moved chairs and stacked boxes, the stuffed animals who sometimes resided on the chairs were moved into the back room, where they sometimes kept people until their time to appear on the show.

Once finished, they sat down on the stairs and waited for Sam to show up. It was uncomfortably quiet in the room, the low hum of the computer audible even from where they were seated.

Carly couldn't take it anymore. Accompanied by a flurry of movement as she situated herself directly over Freddie, her voice rang loud and harsh, shattering the silence as a hammer would shatter glass. "What are you thinking!? This is not _you_. The Freddie Benson I know would never treat anyone like this. You _know_ better."

"You don't know what happened," Freddie stood up, his tone low and angry. "You wouldn't defend her if you knew what really happened."

"Okay, fine, you're right Freddie. I _don't _know what really happened, and I don't really want to. That's between you and Sam. But I do know that what you are doing is wrong. And I know that Sam deserves better." Carly glared up at him, the force in her tone causing Freddie to take a step back, though as she finished speaking, she noticed his eyes soften slightly, their focus no longer on her, but rather on something situated somewhere near the door.

"Hey, you two," Sam's voice was soft, a tone that was, even these days, a very rare occurrence. Carly spun to face her, eyes doing a quick once-over to make sure that everything was fine with Sam.

Once convinced nothing was wrong, she glanced behind her to where Freddie had been a moment before, only to find he was now on the other side of the room focused totally on the side of the car Spencer had made them so many years ago.

"Okay! Let's get the show on the road!" Carly exclaimed, eager to limit the down time in which Freddie and Sam would have the chance to start some sort of battle. Freddie nodded and hurried over to the cart, reaching it just as Sam joined Carly in front of the camera, a noticeably fake smile plastered on her face.

"In five, four, three, two…"

---

It was going better than she could've hoped. Sam was relaxed and seemed to be genuinely happy, her usual fire renewed for the show. Freddie was also behaving better than Carly had expected, though he seemed to be getting slightly edgy. It only took a few minutes for the slightly iffy mood to turn deadly.

A minute and a half. It took them only a minute and a half to break into some sort of argument. Carly had stepped into the back room for a moment to get a sack of brightly coloured scarves for the next segment, only to be interrupted in her gathering by a loud accusing shout from the other room.

"I don't care what you say to me, Samantha Puckett, you're still a murderer!" Freddie's voice rang loud and clear through the walls, unlike the muffled thud that followed.

Carly froze, horror spreading across her face with a lightning-quick speed. She dropped the scarves immediately and rushed back into the main room where Freddie and Sam were standing, eyes flashing with the kind of hatred you only ever read about in books.

"Shut your mouth, Benson. Shut the hell up. You have _no idea_ what I'm going through. You can't even imagine it," Sam spat, her words rolling into the air to float like poison around their heads.

As Carly noticed the positioning of Freddie's hand against his cheek, she relaxed slightly, the realization as to where the thud had come from calming her down considerably. She'd never thought it would be this relieving to know Sam had just slapped someone.

Freddie took a step forward, face inches from Sam, and spoke in a voice that failed to carry beyond Sam's left ear. Carly watched as her best friend's face went pale, her eyes flitting around the room in search for an escape before her knees buckled and she collapsed on the floor, leaning against Freddie's jean-clad legs, body shaking with silent sobs.

Both Carly and Freddie remained still for a moment, then Carly noticed the red blinking light on the video camera and her hear sank. As Freddie stood frozen in place, glaring down at Sam, Carly hurried to the laptop, frantically clicking buttons until the light stopped its incessant flashes and the screen made it's declaration that they were no longer airing in bold gray script.

The moment she was sure nothing else was being recorded, Carly spun around to face her two best friends. "Apologize," she ordered, voice hard.

Freddie didn't let his gaze leave Sam as he remained quiet.

"Freddie, tell her you're sorry."

He didn't move, only watched Sam as she rocked herself slowly back and forth, silent sobs overtaking her.

"Tell her you're sorry _now,_ Freddie," Carly's voice was harsh, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. "Say it, or leave."

The words hung in the air for a moment, drowning out everything else and catching even Sam's attention as she lifted her tear-stained face to watch Freddie. His face was still, though a wild battle was raging behind his eyes. Sam could see it, even in her half-aware state.

Perhaps Freddie would have made a different choice, had Carly not repeated her warnings once more. "Apologize, Freddie. And if you don't, just know that you are _not _welcome back here until you do."

It was one word: one easy little word. So why was it that instead of his mouth opening, his lips were drawing themselves into a thin line, eyes hardening into an unreadable expression?

It was like the night Sam had told Freddie about the abortion all over again. The way his expression hardened, the way his anger seemed to flick off him like a thousand tiny whips… Sam let her gaze drop as she curled tighter into a ball, trying to let herself separate from the conscious world that was causing everyone so much pain. For a moment, she could hear Freddie's angry footsteps on the wood floor, then her auto-defiance system kicked in and she fell into a calm and seemingly dreamless sleep.

---

Sam's back was warm under Carly's feet; the rather unconventional back rub Sam had been undergoing for the last half hour of the TV program giving both of them a sense of relaxation. Carly was sitting on the couch in the Shay's living room, Sam sprawled out on a futon, blankets surrounding her and gaze focused on the TV. Their faces reflected the glowing images on the TV, faded lights illuminating their eyes.

They'd been like this for hours, ever since Freddie left the apartment. It had scared Carly at first when Sam didn't respond to her attempts at waking her up, but the loud snore she received had calmed her down enough for her to haul Sam over to one of the beanbag chairs while she set up the downstairs.

Carly had then hauled all the bedding and junk food she possibly could into the living room, with the help of a half asleep Spencer who was muttering something about all the money they were spending on Christmas presents. Carly had made the beds on the floor and couch while Spencer drove down to the video store with a wad of cash and a long list of movies Carly and Sam had mentioned over the last few months.

It had taken Carly nearly twenty minutes to get Sam awake enough to persuade her into making the trek downstairs. Even then, Carly carried most of Sam's weight as they stumbled down the stairs. Now they were settled into the living room, watching the fourth of the many movies Spencer had brought back with him.

Carly had been noticing a lack of response from Sam over the last few minutes, so she took it upon herself to give her friend a light nudge with her right toe. "You still awake down there?"

Sam grunted her reply, rolling from her side onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes were red and puffy and her gaze unfocused. "I'm awake," Sam mumbled, her voice sounding slightly groggy, even by Sam's standards.

Carly wriggled her feet, moving them out from under Sam's back and rested them on her stomach instead. She watched as Sam's mouth reformed itself into a gentle smile, the gentle warmth that filled her eyes taking Carly's mind off the fact that Sam's belly felt strange under the pads of her bare feet.

"I was just thinking about Freddie." Carly raised her eyebrows at the drunken blissfulness Sam's voice adopted as she spoke.

"And what were you thinking about Freddie?" asked Carly, completely unsure of what to expect. It felt strange to be so far out of the loop. A few years ago, she would have known exactly what Sam would say if asked this question. A few years ago, none of this could ever have even happened. _A few years ago_, Sam hated Freddie, plain and simple.

Sam's mouth opened slightly, confusion sinking deep into her face as she uttered the next words. "I _love_ him."

Carly sat up a bit straighter, unsure of how to proceed. She knew for sure now that Sam wasn't fully aware of what was happening, as a conscious Sam wouldn't be caught dead saying these things. But before Carly could make a decision, Sam started talking again.

"I'd do anything to get him to forgive me. _Anything._ I miss him so much…" the happiness left her face instantly, her eyes glassing over with a thin layer of tears. "I really love him, Carly, I really do." The tears that had gathered in her eyes overflowed, trickling down her cheeks and onto the carpet.

"Hey, Sam, it's okay," Carly slid off the couch and knelt beside Sam, letting her friend pull herself up into a sitting position and wrap her arms around Carly in a strong hug. "I'm sure that if you two talk once he's settled down… you'll be able to work something out." Her voice sounded hopeful even to her.

Just then the phone rang, startling both Carly and Sam. After a moment, it stopped, only to be followed by a loud holler from Spencer's room, telling Carly it was for her.

"I've gotta get that," Carly said, voice apologetic. Sam nodded as Carly lowered her back onto the mattress, then got up quickly to grab the phone.

"Hello?" she said after pressing the talk button.

"Hello, is this Carly?"

"Yes, this is she."

"It's Mrs. Benson, Freddie and I are going away for awhile and I was wondering if you'd be willing to look after the apartment."

Carly's face froze, and she turned slowly away from Sam. "When are you leaving?" her voice shook slightly, whether from anger or fear she wasn't quite sure.

"Early tomorrow morning. We should be back in a few weeks," Mrs. Benson paused, then resumed her talking. "Freddie and I are going to visit some relatives for Christmas, then we're staying for a while."

Carly nodded, then remembered that Mrs. Benson couldn't see her. "Yeah, that's fine. Could I talk to Freddie for a minute though…?" she lowered her voice as she asked the last question, not wanting Sam to figure out what was happening quite yet.

"No, I'm afraid he's already sleeping."

Carly sighed, "Fine then, I'll come by tomorrow evening and check up on everything."

"Thanks, Carly," a pause, then, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." She hung up, then turned to break the news to her best friend. Nothing was going how it should have.

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**Hey all! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. =] Anddd…**

**I'd really like to hear what you think of this so far, as I feel like I'm just giving you the same thing over and over again. **

**Thanks to SquishyCool for her amazing Betaing job! **


	11. Truth Be Told

**So, there are OCs in this chapter. I know, I'm not to fond of them either, but they shouldn't show up any time soon, so you've only gotta put up with them for a few hundred words. Thanks for the reviews, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. And again, thanks so much to SquishyCool for the amazing betaing job, and for all the work she's put in despite all her schoolwork. ^^ **

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The light pushed its way through the dense clouds, the dazzling reflection bouncing off the brilliantly white snow spread evenly across the ground on the other side of the window. Freddie shifted his position slightly, letting his forehead press up against the cool glass. The scene outside was stunningly opposite of the usual hustle and bustle of downtown Seattle. The yard was covered in knee deep snow, fluffy and pale against the backdrop of the thick forest behind it, the solid brown bark of the trees accenting the pale needles as they clung to the branches.

Their mother/son trip had ended up taking them to visit family up in Canada, making Freddie slightly anxious to be so far away from home, even though the space from Sam was supposed to be exactly what he wanted. Yet he'd spent every morning this week waking up in a frenzied panic, face damp with tears and mind focused so heavily on the dream he'd just woken from that he was amazed the only thing he could ever remember of it was that something had happened to Sam, that she wasn't going to be okay.

This morning, the fifth day in a row of the nightmares, had been slightly different that the others, though not in a good way. Today the dream had been even more vivid, and though the details were escaping him, the pain he was feeling was much too real. The flow of tears seemed endless, his eyes were swollen and red, though he'd managed to keep the sound down to the minimum as to not awaken his mother, and his mind seemed completely unable to divert its attention from thoughts of Sam.

Freddie blinked furiously, trying to clear his mind. Flashes of the previous nights dream wavered before him, dim lights and mirrors reflecting a still figure passed out on the ground, blonde hair fanning loosely around a pale face. Freddie could remember enough of the dreams from the nights before to know that the deathly pale face took a role in each and every one. He could also remember enough to be aware of the fact that this was the only time her eyes had remained glassy and still for the entire dream.

"Freddie? Breakfast," Mrs. Benson's voice sounded from door, her usually uptight air considerably more relaxed with the absence of all the dangers of back home. Not that there weren't any horrible things that could happen to Freddie here, just that she wasn't yet aware of them.

"Okay," Freddie sat up and wiped his eyes quickly, not wanting anyone to know he'd been crying. "I'll be there in a minute."

His mom nodded, then receded back into the hallway where she turned to make her way to the kitchen. Freddie pulled himself up off the bed and followed his mother to the kitchen, trying to shift his thoughts away from Sam and on to the promise of good food.

The hallway opened into a bright and open kitchen/dining room combination, the old fashioned oven contrasting sharply with the modern appearance of the rest of the kitchen. The table was made of dark wood, the chairs that surrounded its outer edges matching the appearance of that which has been worn with age.

The room was loud and the air thick with heat and the presence of those surrounding the table. There were Freddie's Aunt Kathy and Uncle Lee and three of their four children, Ellie, Robbie, and Leah. Ellie, the toddler and the youngest, was sitting in her highchair, dumping handfuls of mush on the ground with a pleased air about her. Robbie, a 10-year-old who seemed much keener on playing outside in the snow then sitting at a table and eating, was wolfing down his breakfast while Leah, Robbie's younger sister of three years, was chatting happily with both Freddie's mother and her own.

"Where's Uncle Lee?" questioned Freddie as he grabbed the last piece of toast before it could be snatched by someone else.

"He's already gone into work," replied Kathy, her face hardening slightly. Knowing that his uncle's long work hours was an unpleasant topic to pursue with his aunt, Freddie nodded, hoping something would happen to distract Kathy's attention from the before mentioned subject.

The sudden shriek that sounded from the front door was enough to turn everyone's heads, as well as distract attention from the before mentioned topic. Leah shot up out of her chair and dashed towards the entranceway where a tall, brown-haired girl was glaring down at the happily wriggling puppy at her feet. Two muddy paw prints on her white jacket seemed to be the cause of the commotion.

"Glad you decided to join us," Kathy's voice was slightly cold as she addressed her eldest daughter, whose mouth was opening to send back some sort of retort. But before she could say anything, Leah had propelled herself into her older sister's arms.

"Tara! You're back!" squealed Leah, a huge smile stretching across her face. "Freddie and Auntie Marissa have been here _all week_ and Auntie Marissa even helped me feed Benji and I got to go ride in the snow and - " Leah stopped to take a breath, and Tara took that opportunity to carry her younger sister over to the table.

After they'd finished their greetings and eaten, Freddie got up, wanting to get away from the crowded room for a few minutes. As if sensing his intentions, Tara leaned over.

"If you want some alone time, I'd suggest the barn," she said under her breath, glancing at her mom as she spoke. Freddie nodded, responding with a quick 'thank you' before heading off to the front door.

It didn't take him very long to wade his way through the snow to the barn door, though when he'd finally reached it, it took a bit of effort to haul the door open. Once inside he managed to settle himself down on a bale of hay, letting the calm atmosphere wash over him.

He stayed like that for a few minutes before getting up and walking down the aisle, gazing into the stalls at the occupants. Most of the stalls contained horses, though in one stood a llama and in another a short little pony lay napping on the ground beside a large potbellied pig. Some of the occupants stuck their noses out at him, curiosity playing across their faces, while others paid no attention whatsoever. As he passed one of the stalls, a stocky little horse stuck his nose through the opening and nickered at Freddie, who stopped and reached out a hand to pet the little horse.

For a few minutes, he rubbed the little horse's forehead, a small smile breaking his features as the horse's eyes drifted shut. It was a surprise even to him when his mouth opened and he found himself talking to the animal standing before him.

"I really didn't mean to hurt her so much," his voice shook slightly as the words tumbled out of his mouth. "She hurt me so much. I didn't think she could hurt me that much," he could feel tears forming in his eyes. "I didn't know she was scared… I would've been there for her if she'd told me. Hell, if she'd talked to me about it and _told me_ that's what she had to do… I would've gone with her. I would've gone with her and I would've held her hand the entire time."

The horse bobbed his head slightly as Freddie's fingers ceased their movement.

"And then I just got so angry with her," Freddie said quietly as he resumed scratching the horse's forehead. "I didn't know what else to do, she didn't warn me, didn't let me know right away. She deceived me and lied to me, and then when I was really starting to plan everything out and get so attached to the idea… she just broke the news so quickly… and I snapped at her. I let it all out. And I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop and think because every time I saw her it just hurt me more and more. And I didn't know what else to do. Then last week…" he trailed off and rested his head against the horse's, memories of the week before overpowering his mind and bringing fresh tears to his eyes.

"What's your name anyways?" he asked the horse, trying to relieve his mind of the thoughts for a few minutes. Freddie glanced around, trying to find some sort of hint as to what the horse's name was. After a few moments of searching, he found a whiteboard with a name and some feeding instructions scrawled across it in what seemed to be his older cousin's untidy handwriting. From what he could make out, the horse's name seemed to be Bubble Gum, though it wasn't really clear as to whether it was really the name or just something someone had jotted down for one reason or another.

The horse nuzzled his hand, trying to get his attention focused back on it. Freddie chuckled slightly, enjoying the feeling of being needed for something, a feeling he had been getting less and less lately. As he resumed his task, he found his story flowing from his mouth once again. It was so much easier to spill your guts to a creature that just calmly listened without judging or interrupting.

"So last week we had to do our web show, Carly, Sam and Me. Carly lectured me at the beginning, told me I was better than the person I was letting myself become. Maybe she was right... but I was still so angry with Sam. Then Carly went to get something and Sam was standing beside me and said something about how it couldn't feel anything when they killed it. Then I yelled at her and she hit me and it just got worse and worse…" he trailed off again, letting his thoughts drift off to other things, like the fact his mother had been slowly and quietly taking all the stuff he'd bought for Sam and the baby out of his room and returning it and adding the money to a box on their counter.

His life had become so much more confusing over the last few years. His attention had turned from Carly to Sam ever so slowly, like the way you slowly pull your attention away from a good book and onto reality, only to find that reality isn't so bad after all. Then one night, after Freddie's focus had fixated on the blonde that he sometimes liked to call his friend, something had happened between them that had changed the way they viewed each other so drastically that it would be impossible to go back to how they were before.

They spent one night in each other's presence, partaking in something they would never have expected to be experiencing with the other. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea, but during the course of the night it had just made more and more sense. The way Sam had come to him in search of a comforting pair of arms, and the way he'd been able to understand how she felt and what she needed most without her having to say anything. Most of all, however, was the way she had let him pull her into his arms, the usual ferocity disappearing entirely as he held her quietly, not wanting to let the moment dissolve.

Then Sam had slowly pulled away from his embrace, her eyes asking him for something which he had been entirely ready to give. Once the choice had been made, their ability to reason disappeared: they were in over their heads and still managing to use the sense of togetherness to battle away anything that had been important beforehand. She'd stayed with him almost the entire night afterwards, her peaceful form nestled into his side as he watched her side gently rise and fall under the shielding cover that was the bed sheets.

Though he hadn't dared move, letting only his hand trace gentle patterns across her bare back, his mind had been reeling with questions. Though questions flashed through his mind with a lightning speed, he seemed to return his worry to two main questions: What were they going to become? What was Sam going to do?

His questions were answered when she finally stirred at about 2:30 in the morning, eyes slightly unfocused as she slowly took in her surroundings. He'd watched through half closed eyelids as she'd sat up, taking the shielding wall of fabric with her and leaving his upper body bare, hoping that she would lie back down again, though knowing that such hopes were useless. She'd looked back down at him for a moment, as if waiting for him to speak, though no words left either of their lips in those few moments. Eventually she had taken her leave, pulling clothing on quickly in the dull glow of the nightlight, pausing only when she was fully clothed to return to the bed and fix the covers around him. It was a moment later when her face was drawing closer to his that he realized she was under the impression that he was asleep. It was a short kiss, one that didn't even contact his mouth, instead the motion that of a gentle touch to his check, a whispered thank you accompanying the motion and confirming the knowledge that she wasn't aware of his consciousness. Then she had gotten back up off the bed and made her way quickly to the door.

The next day, Sam treated him with a level of unkindness that was more similar to how she'd treated him back in the eighth grade; the vicious comments and jabs slicing through his damaged barriers and making him feel like a failure to the world. Though she'd gone back to usual the next day, her words had still hurt him more than even she could have known, and he'd let his old defenses build up again, not wanting to ever let himself get emotionally tied to this girl ever again. She was so obviously unattainable, and projected that knowledge with an air of comfort, that Freddie had just given up completely, fighting the feelings he was experiencing with tooth and fist. And it seemed Sam was happy like that, with their friendship staying at just that for the rest of their lives.

It was really too bad that Sam wasn't in control of what would be developing inside her for the next couple of months, otherwise she would have gotten her way, and they could've gone back to how they were. At least, that's what Freddie would have liked to think.

Freddie sighed as he brought himself back to the moment, letting his hand drop down to his side as he wondered how Carly, Spencer, and Sam had spent their Christmas week, his mind focusing painfully on whether or not Sam would have missed him. He knew Carly had called him a few times over the past week, though every time he'd just let the phone ring, not wanting any reminder of what had happened back home. Maybe his mom had been right about leaving for a while. Space from all the stress of life at home was just enough to make him remember that Sam hadn't tried to hurt him on purpose, and that she'd been backed into a corner before the abortion, choosing a road that had probably seemed like the only way when she'd come across it.

Freddie sighed and gave the stout little horse one last pat before he made his way back to the house, only to be greeted by the hustle and bustle of his aunt and uncle's home.

***

The nightmare was worse the next time he fell asleep. Freddie had gotten tired in the late afternoon and lay down for a while, only to fall asleep to the worst nightmare yet. He was awoken by frantic shaking, and the worried voice of his mother calling his name over and over. As he opened his eyes, images flashed across his field of vision, blurring the lines of reality and making his head spin. Tears were flowing freely down his face, running down in thick streams and soaking the pillow underneath his head. His vision cleared enough for him to register the dark shade of the sky, its navy blue expanse interrupted by the sharp points of treetops and the sprinkling of stars.

"Freddie! Freddie!" his mother's voice pulled him slowly back to the waking world.

He sat up quickly, a loud cracking noise preceding the spinning feeling that overcame him after his head collided with the ledge above the bed. His mother's voice turned more frantic as he let out a low moan, vision blurring from the pain. For a moment, Freddie rocked back and forth, moaning as the physical pain reduced to a dull throb and the dream slipped back into the corners of his mind, waiting for the next time he would let himself sink into sleep.

Freddie's mother disappeared from his vision for a moment, her voice letting him know that she was going to go retrieve the first aid box from their car. He nodded in reply, opening his eyes and trying to push the pain into the back of his mind and recall the dream. There was a small part of him that was insisting something vitally important was buried under the layers of images and noises, something that he should have remembered earlier in the week.

Just as the images and sounds he could recall were forming themselves into a more understandable mess, his phone rang. He moaned as the pieces of the puzzle of his dream scattered, then reached down to pick up the source of the noise. Without checking to see who was calling him, Freddie answered, a sense of fear filling his mind as he awaited a reply.

"Freddie, it's Carly," a pause as she took in a breath to steady her shaking voice. "You have to come back. _Now._ Sam's - " Carly's voice faded off and he could hear her saying something to Spencer.

"Is she okay? Carly, I need to know if she's okay," Freddie pleaded, his voice frantic with worry, pain completely forgotten.

"I don't know, Freddie. The ambulance just got here. You need to get back here, though. You need to get back here right now."

"I'm coming, right now. I'll be there in a few hours," Freddie was already pushing past his mother as he spoke. "Tell Sam I'll be there soon."

_Tell her I love her…_

**----------------------------------- **

"**Playing house in the ruins of us…" – Broken Strings [James Morrison & Nelly Furtado]**

**Hope you enjoyed chapter 11! And I hope this cleared up some questions you had about what Freddie's feeling and where he's coming from. **


	12. Going, Going, Gone

**Thanks to SquishyCool for betaing, and thanks to all of you for all the feedback!**

--------------------------

_--- Nine Days Before Phone Call_

"So you're sure this is all okay? I'll be back in a few weeks," a pause, then the question again. "Samantha, you're positive this is okay, right?"

"Yes, Mom, I'll be just fine," Sam sighed, rolling her eyes as she fiddled with the chopsticks in her right hand and attempting to get them into a more effective position. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself for a few weeks. Plus," she paused to shovel some noodles into her mouth, then spoke around the food, "I've always got Carly and Spencer if I get feeling lonely."

Her mother nodded, then closed her eyes, leaning her forehead down and placing her fingers on her temples, letting her short brown hair obscure her face from Sam's view. This was one of the many ways in which Sam differed from her mother: though they shared the face shape and eye colour, Sam's hair was considerably lighter and curlier than her mother's straight, almost black, hair. For a brief moment, Sam felt herself wondering what colour her baby's hair would have been, then her eyes began to water, and she forced her attention back onto the large bowl before her.

"I really don't want to leave you on your own for Christmas."

Sam glanced up to see her mother's attention focused back on her. She sighed and dropped her chopsticks onto a napkin. "Mom, I'm going to be just fine," Sam reached across the table and patted her mother's hand. "Anyways, you haven't seen dad in _forever_, so I really think you should go." As Sam finished speaking, she withdrew her hand, the contact becoming uncomfortable. She left out the point that her mother used to leave her alone all the time, up until a social worker had come and threatened to take Sam away. From that day on, her mother had been doing everything in her power to make up for the time she had missed with her only child.

"Well, you haven't seen him for a really long time either," Mrs. Puckett's voice turned hopeful as she tried out the suggestion one last time, "maybe you should come, too?"

"Nope," Sam let her lips pop on the last syllable, hoping her mom would take the hint and drop the subject.

"Why not, Samantha? He misses you, and he'd love to see you," her voice became pleading, and she shifted forward as if a closer proximity would convince her daughter to join her on a trip halfway across the world.

"I don't really care what he wants," Sam tore open a sugar packet and dumped it on the table, shifting the small granules into shapes with her index finger. "It was his choice to leave us and go help people in some foreign country," her voice was bitter as she spoke the last words.

Her mother's face hardened slightly at Sam's comment, and she opened her mouth to speak, "Fine, Samantha, have it your way. _Don't_ come with me to visit your dad. Just know that you're being incredibly immature right now, and you should think about at least talking to him at some point soon."

Sam made a face, then swept the sugar onto her palm and dumped it in the now empty bowl. "I'll meet you in the car."

_--- Five Days Before Phone Call, Christmas Day_

Sam shifted her weight from foot to foot, eyes fixed on the mirror before her. She was standing in the Shays' bathroom, having chosen the solitude of the second floor bathroom to the busy hustle and bustle that was the living room on Christmas morning. Her reflection gazed steadily back at her, eyes slightly swollen from the tears that had followed the unearthing of a Christmas gift from Freddie.

It had been a maternity shirt, the fabric soft and smooth under the pads of Sam's fingers as she'd tried to hold back tears. She had almost been successful, then Carly had leaned over from her seat on the couch and asked what Sam was holding. Sam had tried to answer the question with a sense of indifference, though the tears that started flowing before her mouth could even open destroyed any chance she may have had.

When the tears started to flow, she knew she had to get away from the questioning eyes surrounding her. So she leaped to her feet and took off towards the stairs, mind blank as to where she could hide, but knowing for certain that there would be a place to hide, if only her legs would carry her up the stairs.

It was when she reached the top step of the staircase, her body shaking slightly from the emotional stress, that she realized the smooth fabric in her hand belonged to the shirt. Her eyes widened slightly, tears blurring her usually clear vision, before she walked quickly down the hall, pushing her way through the blue door covered in little fish paintings that led to Carly's bathroom and locking the door quickly behind her.

She fiddled with the light switch, dimming the blue orbs spaced out along the walls, until the room took on a slightly dusky look. Sam placed the shirt on the shelf to her right, draping the fabric gently over the neatly folded towels stacked on the shelves. She sighed gently, then sank to the floor. The flash of sorrow that had overtaken her was gone now, though it had left her drained. Carly and Spencer's raised voices could be heard through the door, and Sam thought briefly of the art show Spencer would be leaving for the next day, and how annoyed Carly had been at the fact he was leaving her behind over the Christmas break.

A strange clicking noise sounded from the wall a few feet to her left, and Sam glanced over to the source of the noise. A large circular clock hung from the wall, images of underwater creatures spaced out with the numbers. The confusion turned to understanding, and Sam let out a gentle laugh as she remembered the conversation she'd had with Carly a few weeks previous as to whether or not the clock that made different underwater animal noises on the hour was worth the money. Obviously, Carly had ended up bringing it home and hanging it in the bathroom, completing the underwater atmosphere of the room.

It was easy for Sam to say that since Carly and Spencer had redecorated the smaller of the two spare bedrooms into a bathroom, the room had become Sam's favorite in the house (even though it lacked a fridge). The walls were a deep underwater blue, greenish seaweed painted up in thick lines from the floorboards twisted around little fish and other creatures. A huge mirror was attached to one wall, little paintings of turtles and eels creating a border along the glass. The door and surrounding walls were painted dark blue and black, giving them the appearance of the entrance to a cave.

Sam stood up, walking slowly over to the shower and twisting the knob to evoke the stream of warm water that was sure to come eventually. As the water poured out of the shower head, Sam withdrew her hand quickly, not wanting to get her sleeve wet, though she wasn't quite fast enough, and the sleeve that encased her wrist was soaked by the sudden spurt of cold water. She stepped back, pulling her clothing off slowly before stepping into the now warm water. She went through the regular motions of a shower, soaping up and rinsing slowly as she enjoyed the relief that the warm water gave her.

When her skin started to acquire a prune-like quality, she shut off the water and stepped out into the foggy mist that had been collecting while she showered. Sam walked slowly to the towels, then took her time rooting around for her favorite of the Shay's towels: a large black towel with foot prints and shoes spattered haphazardly across its surface. As she rooted through the stacks of towels, she kept her forearm pressed loosely against her chest, trying to lessen the amount of movement taking place in such areas.

Once she'd found the towel, she wrapped it quickly around her body and dried off quickly. When her body was dry, she retrieved her undergarments, pulling them on quickly as the air was quickly becoming cooler. As she reached down to retrieve her sweatpants, Sam's eyes were caught by her now clear reflection in the mirror.

Sam straightened slowly, her pants forgotten on the ground beside her as she turned to examine herself from the side.

"Oh, great," she poked her stomach, still staring at her reflection in the mirror, "now I'm getting fat, too." She inhaled, trying to make the rounded lump that was her stomach flatten out.

She shook her head, then retrieved her pants from their pile on the floor, pulling them on quickly as she grumbled about the unfairness of being able to eat like she had for years and years and only being affected by it now, as well as everything else crappy that was happening to her. When her pants were on, she lifted up her shirt, surveying the now completely water-logged fabric. Deciding that it wouldn't be a very good idea to wear the shirt, she walked back towards the door, planning on borrowing one of Carly's shirts for the rest of the day. As she paused to open the door, however, she saw the shirt that had set her off in the first place.

--

As Carly watched her friend's face crumple, her eyes took in the dull green wrapping paper and card draped across Sam's lap, triggering the memory of the gift Freddie had added to the small pile of Christmas presents in the upstairs closet the day she had picked him and all the baby stuff up from the store. Horror crept over her as she the pieces clicked, but before she could attempt to comfort the girl sitting on the floor below her, Sam had sprang up from her seated position and dashed off towards the stairs.

"Sam!" Carly stood up quickly, knocking over a bottle of red paint and covering the table in a thick mess, turning to follow her friend up the stairs.

"Carly! The paint! It's getting on my sculpture!" Spencer's voice sounded from the hallway to his room, his tall form visible out of the corner of Carly's eye.

"Good! I hope it ruins it! You shouldn't be leaving anyways!" Carly stopped and turned to Spencer, her face livid as she spat the words at him.

Surprised at Carly's sudden outburst, Spencer took a step backwards, knocking over a stack of empty boxes in his swift retreat. "Carly, you know I've got to go to the art show," Spencer met her gaze, hoping that a reassuring tone would lessen the amount of hostility being aimed at him.

"No, you don't," Carly sank onto the couch, letting out a deep sigh as Spencer made his way over to her and took a seat beside his little sister.

"I'm not deserting you guys, and you'll be fine on your own for a few days," Spencer tried to wrap an arm around Carly, but she shook it off and scooted down the couch and out of his reach.

"Fine, I hope you enjoy your trip," she spat before rising up off the couch and heading towards her room.

"Carly! Carly!" Spencer sighed and let his head drop back onto the couch. It was going to be a long day.

_--- Two Days Before Phone Call_

_Turns out it's not a big hit when you bring a puppy home without any warning to your little sister. No matter how cute the little dog is, no matter what excuses you come up with._

Spencer was kneeling in the bathroom trying to gather up all the pieces of brightly coloured fabric that had once been one of Carly's sweaters when he heard a loud yell from the front door. He froze, hand halfway to grabbing the last piece of the mess that used to belong to Carly, waiting for the voice to come again.

"Spencer!" Carly's voice startled him into action, and he leaped up off the floor, propelling himself towards the door. "SPENCER! WHY IS THERE A DOG PEEING ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR!?" Spencer skidded to a stop, turning around to grab the roll of paper towels he'd just been using to clean up the puppy vomit that had come after it digested one of his smaller sculptures.

"Bad Maxwell! No!" Spencer charged into the room, hair a mess and clothing covered in dog hair. He stopped when Carly came into view, Sam standing beside her livid friend, trying to conceal the smile that was tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Spencer! What's HAPPENING? Where'd the DOG come from?" Carly dropped her sweater over the back of the couch as she made her way over to the kitchen where the little black, brown and white puppy was now prancing around with a spatula between its teeth. She clapped her hands in an attempt to get the little puppy's attention.

Spencer smiled as he watched the little puppy's ears perk up and its attention switch to Carly. Its little puppy tail started wagging frantically as it spied the unfamiliar person, its paws scrambling against the floor as it began the short journey to Carly. As he watched, however, the puppy's feet splashed through the puddle of pee that Spencer hadn't yet had the chance to clean up. His eyes widened slowly, and horror flashed across his face as the puppy then hurdled itself on Carly, planting its two sopping wet front paws on her legs.

Sam let out a loud snort as Carly turned to face them, one hand firmly clutching the scruff of the puppy's neck, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Who owns this dog?" her voice was quiet, anger seeping out of every word, "Because I swear Spencer, if it's not gone by tomorrow…"

"Well, first off," Spencer replied as he made his way over to Carly and the dog, "his name's Maxwell." He lifted the puppy into his arms. "And second, he's mine," Spencer smiled brightly as he delivered the last line, hoping that his sister would somehow just let it slide.

"I've gotta get going," Sam's voice sounded from the doorway, and Spencer and Carly turned to watch her as she gathered her coat and shoes. "Good luck with the puppy, you two." They could hear her suppressed laughs as she closed the door firmly behind her. Once Sam was out of sight, the two siblings turned to face each other once again.

"Okay, Spencer," Carly sighed, "you can't look after a puppy. You couldn't even look after your fish!"

"Yeah, but Max here will tell me when he's hungry," Spencer scratched the puppy behind its ears as he spoke, "So it'll be fine!"

"Well then, you have to at least take that puppy back and get a different one. That puppy is going to get _big_."

Spencer frowned at Maxwell, "But he's so small!"

Carly rolled her eyes, "Fine, Spencer, you can keep it for a while, but if you can't look after it, it's got to go." She stood up and made her way towards the stairs. "I'm going to go get some sleep," she lifted her fingers to her temple in stress, "I don't feel very good."

Spencer nodded, a smile sweeping across his face as he snuggled the puppy closer. After a moment, his expression morphed into a frown. "Hey, Carly," he straightened up, "does Sam look… different to you?"

"What do you mean?" Carly paused on the bottom step, turning to watch as her older brother clarified his question.

"I mean, does her stomach look _rounder_ than it did before…?"

Carly thought for a minute, then replied slowly, "Yeah... it does." She waited as another thought entered her mind, "And I touched her belly a while ago, and it felt… weird."

Spencer watched his little sister carefully for a moment before voicing a question that had been playing at the corners of his mind for weeks, "Do you know if she's pregnant…?"

"She was," Carly sank down onto the bottom step. "Then she told me she had a miscarriage, and her and Freddie have been fighting, and that's why he's gone… Though I don't really believe her about the miscarriage. Freddie wouldn't have been that angry if it wasn't under her control."

"Whoa, slow down there, little sis," Spencer took a seat beside her on the steps, settling the little puppy in his lap. "First, it was Sam and _Freddie's_ baby?"

Carly snorted and nodded, relief about letting the secret finally go washing over her. "Yeah, surprised me, too," she leaned against her older brother, letting all the responsibility that was always such a big part of her life fade away, and become a teenager for a moment. Then she pulled herself up and resumed her journey back up the stairs.

"Oh, and Spencer," Carly's voice came from halfway up the stairs, "that puppy's a girl."

_--- Day of Phone Call_

Sam turned the truck off, letting her head fall back against the headrest as she slipped the key into her pocket. She'd woken up today with the claws of depression digging ferociously into her, their grip not even slackening when she devoured half of a ham for breakfast, though the plate of vegetables that had gone down with the meat may have been the reason for the lack of depression release.

Now she was seated in her mother's old truck, eyes closed against the harsh light of the sun, trying as hard as she could to keep her mind clear of any thoughts that would lead to a major breakdown. For what seemed like hours, Sam remained seated in the car, until a knock sounded from the window to her right.

She opened her eyes to see Spencer standing on the sidewalk, a leash in one hand and a crate in the other. Sam pulled herself into a more upright position, then leaned over to roll down the window.

"Hey, Spence," she waved as she spoke, watching as Spencer bent down to lift a furry black puppy into his arms. "You come up with a name for the little brat?" she asked, motioning towards the now struggling puppy.

"Ellie," Spencer struggled with the puppy for a moment, trying to avoid the sharp little claws that were coming dangerously near his face.

"You need some help?" Sam released the seatbelt from its clasp and opened her door, landing lightly on the pavement before locking the door behind her and making her way around to where Spencer was trying to convince the dog that being held upside-down and in the air was, in fact, a safe activity. It wasn't going too well.

"So, what're you doing with all the puppy gear?" Sam motioned to the crate that was now abandoned on the sidewalk.

"I'm taking Ellie to a dog obedience class for the day 'cause Carly got really pissed off when another one of her shoes ended up a chewed mass on the kitchen floor," Spencer explained as he set Ellie back on the ground, lifting the crate with his free hand. "So I'll see you guys later tonight probably. Carly's feeling really sick, though, so I'll bring back dinner." Spencer started walking towards his car, sending Sam one quick wave before turning around completely.

Sam smiled slightly, then made her way to the Shays' apartment.

--

"You positive you're okay?" Sam watched Carly eye the bucket sitting beside the head of the couch.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Carly closed her eyes, "but could you make me soup?" She took a deep breath, then wriggled into a slightly more upright position.

Sam nodded, concern layered heavily on her face as she watched her friend struggle. Over the course of the day, Carly's condition had quickly gotten worse, the speed at which she was reduced to lying helpless on the couch scaring Sam rather strongly.

As Sam searched through the kitchen for the can of soup, Carly's voice called from the living room. Sam shut the cupboard quickly and walked over to where Carly was trying to get from the couch to the door, one hand pressed against her forehead and the other waving slowly around in front of her as she tried to keep her balance.

"Hey Carls, whacha doin'?" Sam asked as she made her way over to her best friend.

"I forgot to … forgot to check on the … Benson's … apartment…" Carly wobbled slightly and Sam directed her back towards the couch.

"How about I go check up on their apartment, and you take a nap?" Sam forced her voice into an overly cheery tone as she organized the blankets around her drowsy best friend.

Carly nodded, her eyes slowly closing and her breathing becoming more even. Sam patted her shoulder, then grabbed the key to the Benson's apartment and made her way across the hall.

--

She couldn't help it. She knew it was a bad idea, but she just couldn't help it.

Sam pushed open the door that led to Freddie's room, stepping in slowly as the familiar scent overtook her. A small smile tugged at the edges of her lips as she thought of the boy that belonged to this room. She'd finished checking everything in the rest of the apartment, watered the plants, and fed the little fish in the jar on the bathroom counter. It hadn't taken very long, and not wanting to go back to the Shays' quite yet, Sam had decided to explore Freddie's room.

The doors to the closet were closed in behind a dresser, making it difficult to reach them. Curious as to why Freddie would so obviously hide something, Sam pulled the dresser out of the way and slowly opened the door.

Two cardboard boxes sat side by side against the right wall, 'Do Not Touch' written in bold letters across their surface in Freddie's handwriting. Sam frowned as she leaned down and pulled the boxes out into the middle of the floor, opening them quickly so as not to lose her nerve.

As she emptied the contents of the bin onto the floor, her heart sank. Baby item after baby item slowly piled onto the floor from the first box: little sleepers and blankets, hats and little tiny shoes. Sam could feel her chest constrict as her mind spun, thoughts, feelings, and memories blurring together as the soft fabric of a sleeper stopped her sharp nails from digging into the palms of her hands.

Though even with her body trying everything it could to stop the dizzying cycle of thoughts spinning through her mind, Sam couldn't stop herself from crawling forward to go through the second box. As she started pulling the items out of the second box, she realized this box was filled with maternity clothing: blouses and shirts in styles and colours that Sam might have actually worn, had the opportunity presented itself; then at the bottom were jeans and pants. It was when she rocked back on her heels, lifting the last of the shirts to examine the fine embroidery on the hem, that she noticed a small stuffed animal in the shape of a lamb, its eyes seeming to stare up at her accusingly, that Sam's thin barrier snapped clean in two, and the depression and guilt that she had been fighting off for weeks came crashing over her.

Sam reached down and snatched the lamb from the bottom of the box and hugged it tightly to her chest as she stumbled up into a standing position. Her eyes were still somehow completely void of tears, perhaps because her tear ducts had decided they deserved an early retirement.

For a brief moment, Sam was able to stand straight and tall, then her stomach rolled and she hurtled off towards the nearest bathroom, her hand releasing the small lamb somewhere along the way. She collapsed on the floor in front of the toilet, retching loudly as her latest meal made its reappearance in the toilet bowl.

When her stomach settled, Sam scooted back from the toilet, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes in an attempt to block out the world.

"I'm really sorry," her voice was muffled against the hand that was now pressed firmly against her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Freddie, and baby… I'm so sorry. It's too much…" Tears started to gather slowly behind closed eyelids as her voice wavered. "Why do I always have to _hurt_ people… Why can't I be perfect and lovable and _strong_?" Sam blinked, opening her eyes to the bright clean colours of what had to be Freddie's mother's bathroom.

As the bright splotches of light cleared from her vision, Sam's eyes were drawn to a little bottle on the counter top. She got up slowly, reaching to lift the little bottle off of the counter and inspecting the label. The small typewriter letters told her that she was holding Valium in her hand, and that it was for Marissa Benson.

Sam unscrewed the lid, looking down into the bottle and seeing the little white pills scattered around the bottom of the container. With her eyes still focused on the contents of the bottle, Sam slid down to the floor again. Her hand shook slightly as she emptied the bottle into her palm, clenching her hand in a fist as she closed her eyes for a moment, then she lifted her hand to her mouth and swallowed. There was no going back now.

After some unmeasurable amount of time, the drug kicked in, and she could feel herself slowly drifting away from the horrors of the world. Sam slid slowly down onto her side, eyes closing and responses dulling as she faded from consciousness.

The blackness had almost completely overtaken her when she felt a fluttering sensation in her lower abdomen, followed by a sharp pain. Her eyes widened slowly, and she managed to move her hands to rest against her stomach, somehow knowing deep inside exactly what the feeling was. Before she blacked out completely, she managed to mumble out an apology, "Sorry … baby. Mommy loves … you."

---

Carly blinked, pulling herself into a sitting position and looking around. She felt much better than she had that morning, her fever almost completely faded. Her clothing was slightly sweaty, and her hair was a matted mess, but she no longer felt like she was going to throw up whenever she moved, which she took as a good sign.

After glancing around the room, Carly noticed the absence of her best friend. Then, as she remembered the events of the last few hours, fear washed over her. The explanation as to why Sam hadn't returned from the Benson's could not be a good one. So Carly got quickly off the couch and headed straight for the door, grabbing her phone from the table as she went.

Carly left the door to the Benson's apartment open as she strode in, her mouth opening as she called Sam's name loudly. It took her five minutes to locate the blonde girl passed out on the bathroom floor. As she dropped to her knees beside Sam, Carly heard Spencer's voice call from the hallway.

"Here, Spencer! Hurry!" Carly's voice was frantic as she sat helplessly beside her best friend, fear clouding her mind. She was the empty medicine bottle just as Spencer burst through the door, his eyes frantic and worry plain on his face.

"What happened?" he asked, kneeling beside Carly.

"I don't know. I j-just found her like this and," Carly hicupped, her vision blurring as she tried to read the bottle's label, "I forgot what to do and…" she trailed off, sobs wracking her body.

Spencer hugged her tightly for a moment, then his voice pulled her back, "You call the hospital, tell them what we know, and that we need an ambulance immediately."

Carly nodded and dialed the numbers. After she'd hung up, she sat with Spencer, staring at her friend, and wondering how she could go so quickly from being happy and chipper to lying so still on the bathroom floor.

"Have you called Freddie?" Spencer asked, trying to distract his little sister.

"No," she lifted her phone again, staring at the screen before pressing in the numbers. "Freddie, it's Carly," after taking a deep breath, she continued, "You have to come back. Now. Sam's - "

At that moment, the paramedics showed up, and Carly had to rush to finish her conversation with Freddie. Then Carly was being rushed into the ambulance as Spencer quickly locked Ellie into her crate and followed closely behind them in their car.

* * *

**Up to this point, this story has been based off of the song 'The Freshman' by The Verve Pipe. I suggest listening to it to see the similarities! ^^**


	13. Hospitals and Planes

**I had a horrible time with this chapter… 13's an unlucky number though… **

**As per usual, a huge thanks to SquishyCool for the kick-ass betaing job =]**

**Thanks to Cady for helping me change the summary... again ^^;**

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Carly Shay stood still, taking a momentary break from the incessant pacing that had plagued her for what felt like hours as she waited for someone to bring her some sort of news. Spencer was seated in one of the nearby chairs, deep worry lines etched into his brow as his eyes flicked from his little sister to doctors and nurses headed off to different wings of the hospital.

"Carly, you should sit down," Spencer indicated the seat beside him, hoping that his sister would take at least a few moments to regain a little bit of strength. Her face was white under the lights, the chalky paleness that clung to her a sign that the flu which had confined her to the couch for the day was not yet finished with her.

Carly sank into the seat beside her elder brother, her head shaking back and forth as she did so, the contradiction in her actions bringing a pained expression to Spencer's face. This was not a good time for these things to be happening. Not that any time would have been good, but these days, it was a little too much to handle.

They sat in silence, watching the hands of the nearby clock rotate slowly as the time slid by. People walked quickly down the hallways, passing in and out of Carly's vision as she stared blankly ahead, mind still trying to pull itself away from the memory of finding Sam slumped over on the Benson's bathroom floor.

Spencer's sudden movement snapped a piece of her mind back into place, giving her the strength to lift herself into a standing position as a doctor approached them. The handful of people scattered around the surrounding chairs watched as the doctor stopped in front of Carly and Spencer.

"What's happening?" Spencer questioned, eyes searching the doctor's face for some sort of sign. Carly held her breath as she awaited the doctor's answer, fear clouding her vision.

"We've got her stabilized."

Carly exhaled, relief relaxing her muscles and causing her to sink back onto the chair in order to keep from falling.

"But she's in a coma, and we're not sure how long it'll last."

"Can we see her?" Carly asked, still seated on the cushiony surface of the waiting room chair.

The doctor shook his head, "Only immediate family can visit right now. I'll be back when there's more news." With that the doctor turned and retreated back into the maze of hallways.

"That is _not_ fair," Carly spat. "We've been closer family to her than anyone else for most of her life."

Spencer nodded, sinking onto the chair beside Carly and putting an arm around her. As he opened his mouth to reassure her, a loud ringing started up from his pocket. They both jumped, startled by the sudden noise. For a moment, Spencer stared blankly at the pocket where the noise was coming from, then quickly pulled the phone out and answered the call.

"Okay... Yep, leaving now." Spencer got up quickly. "I'm going to pick up Freddie at the airport. I'll be back in half an hour." He paused, looking down at his little sister and lowering his voice, "She's going to be okay, Carly."

Carly nodded slowly. "I hope so."

---

The doctor returned twenty minutes later, his calm demeanor not quite hiding the fact that something was wrong. Carly was up off her chair the moment she noticed him, her mind racing into the land of horrible possibilities the moment she registered the concern on the doctor's face.

"What's happening? What's wrong? Is Sam still okay?" Carly felt the words cascade from her mouth, fear loosening her tongue.

"Sam's okay. She still isn't conscious, but that's not what the problem is." The doctor stopped talking, a frown creasing his brow as he looked around. "Is there an adult here I can talk to regarding Sam?"

Carly closed her eyes for a moment, trying to fight back the sudden wave of annoyance taking over her. "I'm perfectly capable of handling any information you'd give Spencer or Sam's mom, if she were here. Hell, out of all of them, I've _always_ been the one to look after Sam."

The doctor sighed, "I was just looking for someone a little more mature to hear what's happening."

Carly raised her eyebrows, shifting into a more offensive stance as she glared at the man in front of her. "Just tell me. There's no one else, and I need to know what's happening with my best friend."

The doctor sighed again, then started explaining.

---

She was back to pacing: back and forth, back and forth. It was the only way she could keep the world from spinning, to keep moving. She'd created a path: down the hallway to the corner, back to the receptionist desk. Repeat.

---

The seat shuddered as the plane's wheels hit the pavement, the seemingly endless maze of runways and bare ground blurring together as the brakes slowed the momentum. Freddie tapped his fingers against the arm of the seat, impatience pumping through him as he waited for the passengers to be released.

---

Sometimes Carly would lean against the wall to take a breather. Once, she'd even paused long enough to dig the correct change out of her pocket to purchase a bottled water from the vending machine by the elevator. The doctor stopped a few times to give her updates, though nothing ever seemed to change. Then she got a phone call.

"Hello? Carly? Freddie's phone is off, is he there yet?"

It took Carly a few minutes to recognize Mrs. Benson's voice, then a few more to swallow the angry words that were welling up in her throat. It wasn't her fault, after all. She had nothing to do with any of this.

"No, sorry, Mrs. Benson," Carly rested her shoulder against the wall, watching the elevator as she waited for her brother to return with Freddie. "Spencer's picking him up at the airport, though, so he should be here soon. I'll get him to call when he arrives."

"Thanks, Carly," Mrs. Benson still sounded slightly on edge.

"Yep," Carly glanced over at the clock, noting that it had been over half an hour since Spencer had left. "Are you going to be coming back in the next few days…?" Carly asked, no other topic of conversation coming to mind.

"I'm on my way now actually. I should only be another two hours," replied Mrs. Benson.

"Oh," Carly watched as the elevator doors opened slowly, revealing Spencer and Freddie. "Listen, they're here now. I'll get Freddie to call you back after he knows what's happening," and without waiting for a reply, Carly shut the phone off and stepped forward to meet the anxious teen coming towards her.

---

"Samantha will be fine. She'll probably wake up within the next 24 hours. The problem is that she was still pregnant."

Freddie felt shock sweep through him, his mind trying to wrap itself around what he had just been told. Part of him was bubbling with something that seemed to be a smothering mixture of happiness and excitement, the rest of him frantically trying to keep up with what the doctor was now saying.

"The medical ingredient in Valium, diazepam, can cause quite sever birth defects. We're doing the best we can, but it looks like there's been some other damage done earlier on in the pregnancy, so - "

"But they'll be okay? Sam's gone through way too much," Freddie was growing slightly frantic, his voice lowering as he mumbled the last few words, "I've put her through way too much..."

The doctor sighed, "We're trying all that we can. It's really not something we can determine at the moment. We're going to do some tests and such, but we need consent to act if we find there's something we can do."

Freddie nodded slowly, then opened his mouth to voice the question that had only received answers to the negative thus far, "Can I go in and see her?"

The doctor looked at him apologetically, "Only immediate family can go in and visit her right now."

Freddie snorted, "That's your rule? Only immediate family?"

The doctor stared at Freddie, his expression turning from apologetic to slightly indignant. "I'll have you know that these rules are set in place to keep our patients safe and on a quick road to recovery."

Freddie nodded, his display of agreement surprising the doctor slightly. "They're great rules. It's just that Sam's immediate family is halfway across the world, and Carly and I are much closer to her than anyone else right now. When she wakes up, Sam needs to see at least one of us there," Freddie paused for a moment, his mind trying to filter the emotions Sam would feel if she were to wake up without a familiar face into words. When he couldn't find an adequate way to voice his thoughts, Freddie continued with a strike he was sure would gain him some sort of access to Sam, "And anyways, the baby that she's carrying inside her, that might not survive all this... it's mine, too. So I should count as family."

The doctor sighed, his eyes showing defeat as he raised a hand to rub his tired face. "Okay," his shoulders stiffened as he motioned for Freddie to follow him, "Follow me. I'll bring Carly and Spencer in a few minutes.

With that, the doctor led Freddie through the maze of pastel hallways and through a wide doorway. After a right turn, they quickly entered into an open room, a receptionist type desk positioned in the middle of the room with gaps where the nurses could get in and out quickly. Off the sides of the room were little rooms, each containing a bed and some equipment. Only three of the rooms were occupied, their darkly coloured curtains pulled across to give the people inside some privacy.

A young woman sat behind the desk, her eyes flitting back and forth between the monitoring screen in front of her and the crossword book pinned under her right hand. She glanced up as they walked past, a slightly pitying grimace playing across her face as she noted the room to which they were traveling. Upon reaching the entrance to the room, the doctor paused, pulling the curtain open slightly and allowing Freddie to step into the dimly lit room.

Dim lights illuminated the pale face of Samantha Puckett, her body motionless except for the slow rise and fall of her chest as her shallow inhales and exhales moved it up and down. Freddie stepped into the room, taking a moment to take in his surroundings. Wires of all different colours attached Sam to a monitoring screen, lines quivering and waving as they mirrored her body's signals. A small window looking out over the roof took up space against one wall, cupboards and a sink taking up the remaining space.

"We can pull a chair in for you," the doctor said from the entrance. Freddie nodded a thanks in reply, waiting for the doctor to leave before making his way to the foot of the bed where he sat down, resting a hand on Sam's foot.

"I'm back, Sam. We're fighting together now, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. I'll listen."

---

"What do you mean 'I was there when she got the abortion'?" Carly was standing before Mrs. Benson, eyes trained on the older woman as little pieces of the puzzle snapped into place.

It had been two hours since Freddie had arrived, and around fifteen minutes since Mrs. Benson's arrival. Freddie was still in the room with Sam, though he had moved from the foot of the bed into the chair the nurse had brought in. Spencer was taking regular trips to and from the house, checking up on Ellie as the night progressed. Nothing had change since Freddie had arrived, demonstrating to the two teens just how hard waiting can be.

Carly and Mrs. Benson were standing on the outside of the curtain, Carly standing with her back to the dark fabric and Mrs. Benson watching for signs that her son could hear their conversation.

"_What do you mean 'I was there when she had the abortion'_?" Carly repeated snappily, accusations ready to fall through the failing barrier and out of her mouth.

Mrs. Benson looked down at her, fear evident on her face. "I took her to get an abortion. She came to me asking for advice and when I gave a suggestion, she took it."

Carly frowned, "What exactly was your 'suggestion'?"

Mrs. Benson let out a heavy sigh, "I told her the truth; I told her she wouldn't be able to give the baby what it needed, and that it was going to be hard work. She made the decision. I didn't force her to do anything."

"How'd she pay for it?" asked Carly after a moment's pause.

"I paid for it. I told her that I'd pay for it. I told her she was going to ruin her life and Freddie's life and I just didn't want to let my baby boy go," Mrs. Benson spoke quickly, her voice quavering slightly. "I had no idea this would happen."

Anger bubbled up inside of Carly, freezing her tongue as she searched for words that would properly communicate her fury. For a brief moment, she just stood there, then, without thinking as to what the consequences may be, she stepped back and stuck her head into the room where Freddie was anxiously watching Sam.

"Carly?" Freddie's tired eyes focused on Carly, confusion and fear evident on his face. "Carly, what's wrong?"

"Ask your mother about how Sam paid for her abortion," Carly spat, shooting Mrs. Benson a venomous glare before stepping inside the room and taking a seat on the foot of Sam's bed. Freddie got up slowly, squeezing Sam's hand gently before slipping out of the room to speak with his mother.

As the moments dragged past, Carly could hear Freddie's voice grow louder and angrier. Carly shifted her position, moving her hand to rest on Sam's. Sometimes she wondered how all this could have happened. It hardly seemed fair for Freddie, who had always been kind, and Sam, who had been trying hard to be less harmful as of late, to have to go through something like this. Now all they had to show for anything was one too many mistakes and a fractured relationship.

Freddie stepped back into the room, breaking her train of thought and bringing concern to her facial expression. "What happened?"

"A nurse told us we needed to be quiet or she'd kick us out. I told my mom she'd better get going, and that I didn't want her to be coming back any time soon," Freddie explained calmly, collapsing onto the chair as he finished speaking.

Carly got up and rested a hand on his shoulder, "It'll be okay. As long as you're there for her this time, it'll be okay."

Freddie nodded, burying his face in his hands and exhaling, "I know. I just…" he trailed off. "I'm going to listen to her, I'm going to make sure this baby is okay, and make sure I know what Sam wants this time. I just don't know if we can do it. I don't know if I can look after her, or if she'll let me help."

Carly sighed, "We'll all make better choices this time. I messed up, too. She came to me and asked for advice… and I couldn't help her. I didn't know _how_ to help her."

"Hey, Carls, Freddie," Spencer's voice came from behind Carly, startling her slightly and causing her to turn quickly around.

"Hey, Spencer," Freddie waved tiredly, making no move to get off the chair.

"Hello," Carly relaxed slightly, yawning as she settled back down on the foot of the hospital bed.

Spencer stepped into the room, handing two small paper bags to Carly and Freddie and pulling in a chair after him. "There's some dinner for you guys, and here's another chair…" Spencer watched as the two slowly pulled out the assorted granola bars and fruits. "There wasn't much at the house that was quick to bring."

"Thanks, Spence," Carly smiled at her older brother as she slid off the bed and took a seat on the new chair, pulling it along the floor to sit beside Freddie.

Spencer nodded, his eyes barely concealing the worry he felt. "There's no chance that either of you is going to leave here and get some proper sleep, is there?"

Carly shook her head slowly, "Maybe once she's awake."

Spencer nodded understandingly, "I'll go sit outside. Come get me if you need anything."

With that, he retreated out of the hospital room, leaving Freddie and Carly to watch over Sam.

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**OK, so maybe here is just where I gave up… but next chapter should be all good and fine. Sorry for the long wait though…!**

**The next chapter's will be much, much more shippy than the latest chapters. **

**Thanks you all for your reviews! It means a lot to me that you've taken the time to tell me what you think of this story!**


	14. Questions and Realization

**Thanks SquishyCool for the beta-ing! **

**Sorry about the lack of updating! Hope you enjoy this though. =]**

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_When you're dreaming, anything is possible. Once you have closed your eyes and surrendered to the worlds of memories and desires your life becomes that which you cannot control. Your mind becomes a screen, the wiring lunatic and senseless, images and emotions overwhelming your senses and pummeling your mind with all the possibilities open to you. And yet it is the waking world to which we always return, the waking world and all its sorrow and pain that brings us the peaks of our existence: the reasons to live._

_*_

The sun woke Freddie from his short nap, its stunning reflection against the small puddles on the roof causing him to blink rapidly and look away. Machines beeped around him, Sam's still form remaining in the same place it had been when he'd first arrived. It had been thirty-eight hours and twenty-seven minutes since Freddie had fist entered the hospital. Thirty-eight hours and twenty-seven minutes since he had first come face to face with the repercussions of his choices.

Freddie slowly released Sam's hand from his grasp as he unfolded himself into a standing position. He reached his fingertips towards the ceiling, letting his spine stretch and his muscles release from their stiffened state before sinking carefully onto the bed beside Sam's peaceful form. With a deep sigh, Freddie shifted himself into a more comfortable position, lifting his hand to rest gently on Sam's lower abdomen. He was slightly taken aback at how quickly the small lump, only detectable under close inspection, had grown into a more obvious swelling.

For a few moments Freddie sat motionless, letting his eyes drift shut as he matched his breathing with Sam's. A sudden movement under his palm caused Freddie to snatch his hand away from Sam's belly, a loud yelp further publicizing his surprise.

"What's wrong?" Carly's voice was frantic, though her slightly groggy tone made it obvious that she wasn't yet fully awake. Though despite her drowsiness, she moved quickly to take her place in the chair Freddie had vacated just moments before.

"Is everything okay in here?" A dark haired nurse poked her head around the curtain.

"I think - " Freddie paused, his voice shaking slightly as he tried to push back the excitement now bubbling up inside him, not wanting the disappointment to be too strong if he were to be wrong in his assumption. Freddie glanced behind him, making eye contact with the nurse before he resumed speaking, "I think the baby just kicked." The nurse stepped into the room, a slight frown forming as she moved to stand beside Carly's chair.

"Mind if I - ?" the nurse gestured towards Sam's stomach. Freddie shrugged, watching nervously as the nurse lay her hand on Sam's belly. After a moment a smile appeared on her lips, "That's definitely a kick." She removed her hand, retreating back a few steps and watching the two teens as hope was re-introduced to their world.

---

Spencer was sitting in the cafeteria, a cup of coffee held loosely in his hands as he watched the television screen across from him. He'd left Freddie and Carly when they were both sound asleep, finding he was unable to do the same. The nurse on the night shift had been friendly, promising to get him if anything were to change, and sending him down to the hospital cafeteria where he'd begun to ingest copious amounts of caffeine.

He'd gone to check on Ellie at some point during the night, waking up Carly to tell her where he was going and driving as quickly as he could in order to be back before anything could happen. When he'd reached the apartment, his plans on a quick departure were thwarted by a worried Marissa Benson.

She's started by asking what was happening with Sam, perhaps hoping that if the girl turned out to be okay, she would be forgiven and her son would change his mind. Spencer had filled her in quickly, telling her that nothing had changed and that the doctors were starting to get worried, a fact that he had chosen to keep from his little sister and her friend.

The door to his apartment had been opened quickly, and when he finished explaining to Mrs. Benson what was going on he'd stepped quickly inside to be greeted by the excited barking of his puppy. Mrs. Benson followed him inside, wringing her hands as she glanced around the apartment. "Could you please ask Freddie to talk to me? Tell him to come home?"

Spencer had sighed, feeling bad for the woman behind him. Mistakes are always hard to fix, and the mistake Mrs. Benson had made was one that had led to many more mistakes, mistakes that had almost cost a life. "You're going to have to fix this on your own," Spencer spoke slowly, undoing the latch on Ellie's crate and lifting her up into a hug. Ellie squirmed slightly, licking his face with her pink tongue as her tail swung back and forth. Mrs. Benson made a face as she watched Spencer hook a leash on the puppy's collar and step past her into the hallway, heading outside. "I'd give him some time to cool off," Spencer stepped out of the way, letting Mrs. Benson follow him into the hallway before locking the door behind them. She nodded slowly, then opened the door to her apartment and stepped inside.

Spencer had then taken Ellie outside where he walked her quickly to a grassy patch beside the road and let her sniff around. When she was finished, Spencer jogged back upstairs and returned her to her crate, giving her one last pat before returning to the hospital where he took a short nap on the chair outside Sam's room.

Spencer pushed the coffee mug away from him, standing up slowly to stretch before he walked over to pick up some food, leaving his mug on the table, a ring of cold liquid below it.

---

The first thing that she noticed was the smell of hospital food. It was almost enough to make her keep her eyes closed and fall back into an uneasy sleep. Instead she blinked slowly, moving her fingers to her right, checking to make sure she could defend herself if it was necessary. As she moved her fingers, she could feel rough fabric against her fingertips. She opened her eyes slowly, gazing first at her fingertips before letting her eyes travel slowly up until they found Freddie's face. His eyes were puffy, dark purple crescents below them silently telling the story of his lack of sleep. As his gaze was downcast, Freddie didn't notice Sam's eyes on him, his mind fighting to push away the insane notion that he had, in fact, just felt her fingers brush against his knee.

As Sam's mind slogged its way out of the murky sludge left over from the coma, she found surprise and hope bubbling through her veins, fighting for control in her still shaky conscious. She shifted her hand slightly, resting her fingertips on Freddie's leg and moving her thumb against the rough fabric of his jeans, trying to convince herself that he was really there. Before she could debate what Freddie's reasons for coming were, his eyes flicked up to meet hers, the intense happiness breaking across his features leaving her with no doubt that he was there for her.

For a moment they just watched each other, then Sam reached her hand up to grab the collar of Freddie's shirt, slowly pulling him towards her until they were only a few inches apart. She smiled slightly, unaware that both Carly and Spencer were sitting in the room with them, gaze trained on the pair seated on the dully coloured linens, "You got any food, Benson?"

Freddie laughed, his eyes moving slowly from Sam's eyes to focus on her lips, his thoughts blurring slowly as he leaned forward to close the space between them. Sam closed her eyes for a moment, the contact so comforting after weeks consisting of deprivation of such things, that even when the doctor walked into the room, Sam found herself finding Freddie's hand as they turned to face the doctor, a faint blush barely visible on Freddie's cheeks.

"So, we've got some things we need to go over," the doctor directed his words at Sam, his tone falsely positive.

---

Freddie was leaning against the wall by the door, his eyes unfocused as he started at the wall. Sam sat on the hospital bed, palms pressed against the fabric, her sock-clad feet swinging back and forth, toes brushing lightly across the ground as she watched Freddie.

It had been an incredibly long day for both of them. After assuring Carly and Spencer that she would be just fine without them for a while, Sam had convinced Freddie to get them out of the room, a sudden wave of claustrophobia moving her off the bed and towards the room's exit. Freddie turned back to face the room just as Sam strolled past, the wires the doctor had let her detach from the machines wrapped around her fist.

"Where do you think you're going?" Freddie caught Sam's arm, pulling her towards him and meeting her glare with a calm expression. Sam sighed, relaxing slightly before replying.

"If you _must _know," Sam began, shaking her arm slightly as if to release Freddie's grip, "I was going to pee. But if I'm not allowed to leave to room…" Freddie sighed, letting go of her arm and raising his hands in defeat.

"Should I walk with you? You know where it is, right?"

Sam nodded, "I know where it is, and I'll be perfectly fine on my own, so wait here."

Freddie paused, watching Sam as she turned towards the hallway, "Sam… we need to talk about today, and I've got to go in about an hour…" he trailed off, picking up the slight tension in the way her body straightened as she heard his words.

Sam turned quickly towards him, hoping he hadn't noticed her change in stance and trying to disguise her discomfort, "Yeah, I'll make it quick, Benson." With that, she turned and hurried past the nurses' station and towards the toilets.

Freddie watched her go, a mixture of emotions swirling around inside his head, everything further muddled by lack of sleep. With a groan, Freddie leaned back, letting the wall hold most of his weight as he closed his eyes.

---

Sam stood in front of the mirror, hands under the warm flow of the tap water as she tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to escape. She hated being so emotional, hated how quickly her eyes would fill with tears and she would be reduced to a sobbing mass. She didn't want Freddie to leave her alone in the hospital, her fear of abandonment and her dislike of hospitals triggering a waterfall of emotion. She sniffed, wiping her eyes carefully before tying her hair back in an attempt to make herself feel a little bit more presentable. When she was content with her appearance, Sam headed out of the bathroom and back to the room where Freddie was waiting.

Freddie was seated on one of the chairs when Sam stepped into the room, focused so intently on something he was holding in his hands that he didn't notice her presence. She took the opportunity to push back the nervous energy building inside her, then stepped into Freddie's line of vision.

"So," Sam sank onto the bed as she spoke, "What are we talking about?"

Freddie frowned slightly, then pulled the chair closer to her and took a seat, using his eyes to communicate that this was a serious conversation. "We need to talk about the baby. I want to know what you want to do this time, so we don't end up repeating history," he said, watching Sam carefully.

Sam looked away, gaze drawn to the ceiling as she took a deep breath, entirely unsure as to how to answer Freddie's question. "I - " she paused, drawing her gaze back down to meet Freddie's before continuing, "I think we've got to keep it."

Freddie lifted a hand, resting it gently against Sam's knee before replying, "You really want to do this?"

Sam closed her eyes, letting the events of the day flood her mind. Up until the moment the doctor entered the room, Sam hadn't been sure that she'd wanted to keep the baby. Even after the memories of the kick just before she'd lost consciousness to the Valium had flowed back to her mind, she still didn't have any sort of tie to the idea. And yet there was a part of her that wanted Freddie to stay with her... some small, hidden part of her that _needed _him to stay with her. She'd been through enough by now to know that she needed to make her own decision, that she needed to be responsible for her own life. So she'd just blocked out any thought of what would happen after that day, keeping her mind fixed on the present as the day dragged past.

Then, later on in the afternoon, they'd seen the baby for the first time on a screen in the ultrasound room. It was in that moment, lying on her back, stomach coated in cool gel and Freddie's hand in hers, that Sam let her mind paint a future. It was in that moment that she realized just how much she wanted to keep the baby.

"Yes," Sam's voice was void of any uncertainty, her eyes meeting Freddie's with a determination he hadn't seen in a long time. "I'm sure I want to do this."


	15. Short Lived Jobs and Sob Stories

**So... I'm back...! Sorry for the incredible delay... I lost my inspiration, then I decided I should write you guys another chapter, and so here it is: 2****nd**** to last, most likely. I think that the story has reached its climax, and is now just dragging a little bit. So I'm going to end it nicely. Thank you all so much for the reviews and faves and alerts! The song Sam sings is from the Sound of Music. **

**And, of course, big thanks to SquishyCool for the betaing. **

**---------**

There were mood swings, then there were _Sam-swings _- _Pregnant_ Sam-swings, to be exact. Freddie had been suffering through these unpredictable changes for long enough to have acquired some rather brutal-looking bruises.

"_It takes way too many hours to walk from here to Carly's. Drive me, please?"_

There were romantic dinners, then there were food scarfing competitions. Thanks to Sam, all of Freddie's attempts to be romantic had become rather... well, Sam enjoyed it at the very least.

"_Freddie, I can't find the remote. You wanna switch the channel for me, please?" _

The'd ended up choosing to stay at Sam's place. At least until her (rather ill-informed) mother came back from visiting Sam's dad. Freddie had thought it would be a lot worse than it had turned out. The first night of sleeping arrangements had been the biggest road bump, otherwise being alone with Sam seemed to keep her slightly kinder, as if she no longer had to prove to anyone that she hated Freddie with all of her heart. It was amazing how many times the word 'please' had been voiced in the month following Sam's 'escape from prison', or rather, release from the hospital.

"_There's a sad sort of clanging - "_

"_Sam?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_You've got a pretty voice."_

Hearing Sam sing had to be one of the strangest things Freddie had to deal with. She claimed that it was a new development, and Freddie believed her, because he'd never heard her sing before. Her voice really was nice, though - not in a polished, brilliant superstar way, but in a soft melodic way that Freddie had come to enjoy immensely. The day was not complete unless he'd heard some sort of music from Sam. Strangely enough, she'd seemed to know quite a few songs from musicals.

"_We've gotta _go_ somewhere, Freddie. I can't stand being here for one more second."_

At one point, they'd gone to the pet store for an outing in an attempt to break the infuriating school-home-homework-dinner-homework-sleep-breakfast-school cycle. The doctor's office was another of the cycle breakers, but Sam disliked the doctor's office, so they kept it to the necessary appointments. Come to think of it, since Sam had put herself in a coma, Freddie hadn't liked going anywhere near a doctor. Memories were powerful things.

"_Oh! I just felt it kick! Freddie, you've gotta feel this!"_

The pet store had been a disaster. When Sam had tried to leave the store with a hamster clinging onto her sleeve, it had taken waaaaay too much talking to stop the employee from calling the police. The fact that Sam was 'Pregnant and Hormonal' seemed to soften the middle-aged woman who had been watching as Sam tried to exit through the main door. They ended up having to buy the hamster, overpriced of course, the cage, and food, which dug painfully into their money supply.

"_Freddie! Bartholomew hasn't eaten yet! Give the poor little hamster his food!"_

"_Do it yourself! I'm trying to convince Carly to let us come over and eat dinner with them... for the third week in a row!" _

It was the 'Now Hiring' sign Freddie noticed in the door of the pet shop that landed Sam with an 'apology-and-thanksfornotturningmeintothepolice-job' for the few weeks before she claimed to be too pregnant to do anything. (Freddie didn't believe her, not even for a second: he'd seen her running across the field after the football players the day before. But he was in no place to argue. She was Sam, after all.)

"_You wanna hold the dog? You'd better buy it then." "I don't care if your momma doesn't let you have pets. This one needs a person!"_

He really wasn't sure how, but Sam managed to get on the consideration list for employee of the month. He could remember that day vividly. The way she'd burst through the door, her face flushed with excitement and her hair wild, before yelling the news, despite the fact he'd been standing directly in front of her, just about to run down to the grocery store and pick up the top priority items on Sam's craving list. It had been even more surprising, however, when Sam had leaned forward and pressed her lips against Freddie's for a brief moment. Then she was in the kitchen, belting out a victory song Freddie hadn't ever heard before.

"_Next week we've gotta go see the doctor, okay, Sam? ...Sam? God, you fall asleep way too much."_

---

School was bullshit. Sam hated it. Really, truly hated it. And if there was one thing she hated more than school, it would be being pregnant while attending school. The looks she got when she walked down the hallways... it was enough to make her want to go back to the hospital.

Ironically, Freddie ended up being the biggest support to her during school hours. Though he could do nothing about the looks the students gave her, he did hold some sway with a handful of Sam's teachers. There was one thing that Freddie didn't see coming, however, and his lack of support beforehand was enough to make Sam seriously contemplate slipping something in his drink: nothing that would kill him... but maybe something really spicy, or oily, or bitter; something that would make him gag.

Carly was also no help. When she'd sided with Freddie one afternoon at the Groovy Smoothie, Sam had made a rather dramatic exit, complete with knocking over her smoothie which, conveniently, splattered across Freddie's lap. Revenge is sticky.

Now, Sam was sitting outside the school's counselling office, fiddling with the T-shirt stretched awkwardly over her midriff. Trying to sleep in when Freddie was your ride to school often resulted in a two-minute time span in which to get dressed. She had a water bottle and bucket in the car for teeth brushing.

"Samantha?" A tall woman with graying hair stood in the doorway of her office, the nameplate beside her shoulder read 'Mrs. Jay'. "You may come in now," she moved to the side, indicating for Sam to enter the office. Sam sighed and stood up, straightening out the hem of her shirt before walking past the counselor.

"Long time no see, hm?"

"I wonder why," Sam muttered under her breath. No matter how friendly this school counselor seemed, Sam knew that she wasn't really all smiles and kind words. Sure enough, just as Sam settled into the small chair that had been offered to her, Mrs. Jay opened her mouth, and the knives started slicing.

"So, where's the father?" It wasn't so much the words, but rather the tone, and the underlying expectations that Sam was completely incompetent of looking after herself, or any other human being.

Sam decided to play dumb. Maybe the insult wouldn't hurt so much if she could turn it into a game. "The father...? Of _what?_"

Mrs. Jay frowned, shooting Sam a stern 'no-nonsense' look before shuffling through a stack of papers. "Your baby, Samantha," the annoyance in her voice was enough to tell Sam that the quicker she got out of the office, the better.

"_Freddie_ is in Science right now, hopefully suffering terrible guilt for not bailing me out of this appointment," Sam replied, glaring at the woman across from her.

"Huh," a short pause, then, "So, which adoption agency are you going to to give it up?" Mrs. Jay waved her hand at Sam's abdomen.

"I'm - " Sam stopped, annoyance flitting through her nerves and making her foot twitch involuntarily. "Freddie and I are keeping the baby. We decided on it together."

"Did you have any adult help on the subject? I don't really think you're... mature enough to make such a decision on your own."

Sam thought of Mrs. Benson's involvement in the pregnancy decisions and frowned. "Yeah, I talked to an adult about it. I also talked to Carly about it. I even talked to Spencer a bit," Sam glanced up. "And I've made a decision. I'm mature enough to look after a baby. So is Freddie."

"But what with that unfortunate suicide attempt and your rocky relationship with Freddie... I really think you should give the baby up. You've shown over and over again that you can't be trusted to look after a child. You've got a criminal record. Just recently you tried to steal a hamster from the pet store..." she trailed off, her mind blanking as she met the furious gaze of Sam Puckett.

"I don't give a fuck what you think," Sam spat, her eyes blazing. "But I've made a decision, and I'm going to follow through with it. So fuck off." Sam stood up and flung the door open. "Do _not_ expect me to come back in here." With that, Sam stormed out of the office, ignoring the shocked looks of the two students sitting in the chairs outside the door.

The hallways blurred past as her eyes began to well with tears. She wasn't really sure where she was going, her mind more focused on the words that she'd just heard from the woman whose job it was to help her. _Life is not fair._ Sam swiped a tear from her face as she looked around. Recognizing the door a few feet down the hallway, Sam put on a little extra speed, readying herself for a spectacular entrance.

She just caught Freddie's start as the door slammed against the wall, her eyes picking him out from the sea of heads. She could hear the muttering start, the looks of incredulity on the faces of some of the pupils at seeing the tears on Sam's face, bringing on a fresh wave of shame. This was not supposed to be who she was, not supposed to be how she acted.

"See, Freddie? I told you I shouldn't go!" Sam cried out, her voice mercifully strong despite the waterworks springing from her eyes.

She could see the worry in his face, even from across the room, and the thought of adding something unpleasant to his drink was cleared from her mind. Sam felt a hiccup shake her diaphragm, the embarrassment disappearing as she thought of the words she'd just heard. All in all, it seemed that she was just another worthless teenager that no one thought could accomplish anything, so what did it matter if she stood here crying in front of Freddie's Science class?

"Sam," Freddie voice pulled her back into reality as she focused her gaze on him. "Come on. I'll drive you home. You can tell me what happened."

Sam nodded slowly and let Freddie guide her out of the school and to their beat up old car. The drive was soothing. The motion kept Sam calm enough that she was able to stop crying, though the hiccups remained. Freddie helped her out of the car and walked with her upstairs, settling her into the bed before sitting beside her, both hands clasping one of hers.

"What _happened_?" Freddie finally asked, concern blatant in his voice.

"She said that I wasn't going to be a good mom and that I wasn't responsible enough to have a baby and that I should just give it up for adoption," Sam sobbed.

Freddie sighed, "I'm sorry, Sam." He knew that it wasn't just that which had triggered Sam's breakdown, but rather the fact that the counselor had voiced every single one of Sam's secret fears. "I think you're going to be a great mom. So do Carly and Spencer. And you've got all of us. We're going to help you, 'cause we love you, no matter what.

Sam smiled slightly, the corners of her mouth forming a strained curve. "Thanks, Freddie..." she sniffed, then paused for a moment before leaning against Freddie, her free hand wrapping itself into Freddie's shirt. "Thank you so much."

Freddie looked down at Sam, surprised, then he freed one of his hands, wrapping his arm around Sam and pulling her close. His lips brushed gently against her forehead, and he felt her let out a gentle sigh. It was then that he realized he hadn't heard her sing yet that day.

Sam fell asleep to the gentle hum of Freddie's voice as he made his way through a lullaby.


End file.
