


Ashes and Phoenixes

by tangerinepalm101



Category: iCarly
Genre: Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2015-03-07 02:22:36
Rating: T
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,044
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7130030/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2853280/tangerinepalm101
Summary: When Sam's favorite relative dies, she's determined to do her justice. Incidentally, that involves dragging Freddie along on a roadtrip around the United States.





	1. Chapter 1

Of course Freddie found it strange that Sam had called him over to her apartment. She spent the majority of time over at Carly's and the Groovy Smoothie. He would have demanded a good answer as to why he should high-tail it over to her place when he was in the middle of his shift at McDonald's. He would have, but he noticed something that made him stop in his tracks.

After Sam's command that he meet her at her apartment within the next ten minutes or else, he heard something. It was a faint, soft... _sob_. There was no other way to say it. He hadn't been able to hear from her voice, which was harsh and forceful as per usual. Sam didn't cry. Well, hardly that was. When she did, it was something serious like a near-death experience.

So, Freddie cast off his black uniform apron and begged Rob, his best friend at work, to cover for him with some excuse, any excuse. Then, he left the fast food joint and hopped into his car.

* * *

><p>About fifteen minutes later, Freddie was parallel-parking his blue, used car in front of Sam's apartment. He knew that she'd said ten minutes, but there really was no conceivable way that he could travel that far in that amount of time without breaking multiple traffic laws and putting his life in danger. But he'd came, hadn't he? It wasn't like Sam would ever do the same for him, show up on a moment's notice. There friendship had always had an odd dynamic, and he seemed to always put more work into it.<p>

Freddie pulled open the front door and walked past her doorman, who was fast asleep and drooling a little. Her apartment building was very large, but not nearly as nice as Carly's and his. Even the strangeness of Lewbert couldn't hide the fact that Sam's place was just kind of... sad. It was constantly empty feeling and quiet, except for when Sam was fighting with her mom or screaming at the guy down the hall for some reason.

He stepped into the elevator quietly so as to not wake the doorman, and pressed the 4th floor button, which lit up red. With a small jolt and a creak, the elevator began its journey up the shaft. When it arrived at the correct floor, the doors didn't open for a long time, and Freddie panicked a little that he'd be stuck. However, they finally opened a few seconds later, and he sighed with relief. Hurrying out of the tiny space, Freddie found her apartment.

"Sam?" Freddie asked, knocking at her door lightly with his knuckles.

It took her a few moments, but she did answer. Sure enough, his instincts had been right. She'd attempted to hide it, but Sam had definitely been crying. Her blue eyes were tinted red and her mascara had smudged around them in an entirely unintentional way. On top of that, her blond hair poofed around her head as if it hadn't been brushed all day, and her clothes were wrinkled and clashed terribly even to Freddie's eye, which wasn't exactly trained in the art of fashion.

"Hey, Nub," she said. Her voice quivered slightly, but she waved him inside.

"Sam, what's wrong?" he asked while the door fell shut behind him. Sam had already taken a seat on her couch, forearms propped on her thighs, head low. Oh no, he couldn't do this. He wasn't good with crying. Especially not crying girls. He messed it up every time he tried to console one, not that he had much experience.

She shook her head silently, and he saw fresh tears leak out and drip down her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, Freddie sat down next to her. He didn't say anything. He didn't want her to lash out, and he definitely didn't want to make things worse. At this point, he was clueless as to what was wrong, but he would wait. Until she was ready. So he just sat beside her in silence occassionally broken by quiet sniffles from Sam.

It was a long time later, or maybe a short time. He wasn't sure. But Sam started talking, "You know, my Aunt Louisa?"

Freddie nodded, "I met her the one time. She called me Frednerd. I guess you told her to."

"She's dead," Sam stated, simply.

"Oh," Freddie said. Aunt Louisa had seemed to be the only relative Sam didn't hate, or at least didn't seem criminal or insane. Well, she had seemed a little insane, but in a good-natured way. Every summer, Sam spent a week or two with her aunt and always came back with a few stories to tell.

"She was too young. Thirty-five," said Sam.

He didn't want to be rude, but the silence that followed was too awkward to leave as is. "...How?" he asked.

"She was sick. The last few times I saw her, we weren't able to do so much." She paused, bit her lip. "A lot of the last few stories I told... LA, Las Vegas... They were lies. You probably knew that already though." After a moment, she added, "If you hadn't actually met her, you'd probably think she was a lie too. I mean, everyone in my family sucks. But she isn't a lie. She's real. She was real."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Freddie didn't know what else to say. He'd never lost anyone very close to him, if you didn't count his father when he was barely three which he didn't recall at all. After listening to a few more sniffles, he asked, "Why did you call me?"

"Because crying alone makes you feel pretty shitty."

"What about Carly?"

"Carly's not good with crying. Usually she starts crying too, and then I feel really terrible because I've made someone else feel depressed too. You may be a wimp, but I knew you wouldn't cry. If only because you don't really care at all."

"What? Sam, I care."

She said something that sounded distorted through the sudden burst of tears. Freddie felt himself growing more and more uncomfortable with the amount of crying going on. He fidgeted in his seat.

"My mom's picking up her ashes and whatever else she left us in the will," Sam said.

"Are you going to scatter them?" asked Freddie.

"Yeah. I want to do it right, but my mom just wants to dump the ashes in the local park. Aunt Louisa was never her favorite sister."

"Well, you should do it how you want to. You really loved her. You knew her," said Freddie. "Do what she'd want."

All of a sudden, Sam's mood changed entirely. With one last wipe at her wet eyes, she stood up and forced a smile. "You know what? You're right. I should do it my way." She paused in thought, then continued, "Here's the plan. In the middle of the night, I'll steal the ashes and take the car—"

"Woah, Sam, that seems a little extreme. Why don't you just ask your mom? You know, like a normal person."

"Because, Fredward, do you know how much better an adventure is when it's secret and dangerous and you're on the run? No, of course the mama's boy doesn't know." Then another idea popped into her head. "You should come with me."

"What?" Freddie balked, staring at Sam like she was completely crazy. Which she kind of was, at the moment.

"You know I can't read a map to save my life. Plus, we can cover more area if we drive in shifts. Anyway, I don't think I have enough money for gas and food by myself. I need your cash."

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," Freddie said, defensively. He'd spent ages compiling his money, and now Sam was likely to blow it all away in one summer.

"But you will come. It's our last summer before we're seniors. And god knows you need to rebel from your mother at some point. That moving-out-for-two-days thing totally doesn't count."

"It was three days!"

"Whatever. Come on, let's do it. We can go everywhere. That giant rock with the presidents on it. Los Angeles. Disney World. Whatever they have in Texas. The Statue of Liberty. It'll be an adventure."

"An adventure that requires a heck of a lot of driving. You just name-checked every corner of the United States. It'll take weeks to drive all those places. Months."

"Hmm... Do you think we should include Canada? Mexico?"

"Sam!"

"Okay, we'll play it by ear. First stop... California."

Freddie sighed loudly. He was playing it like he wasn't looking forward to Sam's 'adventure,' but he was actually cautiously excited about it. After all, another summer under his mother's roof was a pretty bleak prospect. Besides that, he'd never seen much of the great American sights and attractions. But he wasn't ready to let Sam know that he was actually interested yet.

"Maybe," he said. "Maybe. We'll see."

"You're going to do it," Sam insisted. "I know you are."

Freddie rolled his eyes, and sighed in frustration. "We'll see. Call me when the ashes arrive, and then I'll decide."

"All right. Pack your bags in the meantime, Benson. Make sure you bring enough anti-bacterial underwear. It's gonna be a long journey."

**Thanks for reading, and I hoped you liked it. After I finish Don't You Remember, I think I'll update this a lot. Probably each chapter will take Sam and Freddie to a new location. My other story, For the World to See, is really not going is well, so if you like that please tell me or it may continue un-updated. Any and all comments are appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2

It was three days later at just past midnight when they took off. Sam clutched Aunt Louisa's urn under her arm, and Freddie held the front door open for her as she tiptoed out of her house. Quietly, he eased the door shut in the frame and followed her to the street.

Sam took off running towards her car, which was parallel-parked on the street just in front of the house. Taking a swift look around, she pulled open the driver's side door and slipped inside. Freddie rolled his eyes. Sam was pretending like they were two prisoners on the run from trigger-happy police. In reality, they were two teenagers walking out of an unlocked and alarm-free house guarded by one woman fast asleep on sleeping pills. He sat down on the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt.

After she shifted it into gear, Sam's car screeched out of its parking space, and Freddie's body was plastered to the seat back as the car zoomed forward way over the speed limit. "Woah, Sam, slow down! Our journey's gonna come to an end soon if you run over too many children at eighty miles per hour."

"Don't be silly, Benson. No children are out at 12:13 AM." However, she did ease off the gas pedal, slowing down to a more comfortable forty-five miles per hour, although she was still speeding a bit in the residential area.

For the next ten minutes while Sam directed her car towards the highway, Freddie went over lists in his head. Things he'd packed. Things that could possibly go wrong. Ways his mother could react to finding his bed empty. And last but not least, amazing places that they could see, adventures they could experience, and things that could go right.

Soon, they were on the highway, which was quiet and nearly empty in the dark, starless night. Sam glanced over at Freddie and said, "Look in the glove compartment. Put in a CD."

Freddie obliged. He fished through the niche, finding a wide variety of candy, snack items, napkins (some already smeared with barbeque sauce and meat juice), and finally, a large variety of music. Most of them were mix CDs burned off the computer and shoved in a hand-labeled paper sleeve. At random, he chose one titled "Songs About Driving." Popping the disk in the player, he was greeted with the sounds of the Beatles' "Drive My Car."

"So, where are we headed first?" asked Freddie.

"I was thinking California, but when I plugged Seattle to Los Angeles in MapQuest, it said that was over eighteen hours of driving straight. That's way too long to sit in a confined space with you."

Freddie rolled his eyes, although he knew Sam couldn't see through the darkness. "You're the one who begged me to come along in the first place."

"Did not!" snapped Sam, her voice growing sharp. "Anyway, you're the one who showed up."

"That's because I help my friends through tough times, and I saw how hurt you were when you told me about your aunt."

Sam wrinkled her nose. "I'm fine, Frednerd."

"Come on, Sam. We're obviously going to spending a very long time together. At the very least, can we stop with the stupid nicknames? Just call me Freddie."

"Like that's gonna happen," scoffed Sam, edging on the gas pedal as she sped along the straight expanse of road. Freddie sighed and hoped no police officers were hanging around the highway.

"So, if not LA, where are we going?" Freddie asked a few minutes later.

"It's called Cannon Beach, in Oregon. It's only about four hours away, right on the border. I don't know, it just looked pretty in Google Images. I thought it seemed like a place Aunt Louisa would like. You brought a swimsuit, right?"

Freddie nodded.

"Good. So, we can go swimming for a bit in the morning, and put some of the ashes in the Pacific."

"After that, we should probably sleep," said Freddie, stifling a yawn. "I don't know about you, but I can't go that long without at least a nap."

"We'll find a motel," she replied.

"Wait... a motel?"

"How much money did you bring, Benson? What did you expect? A Hilton every night?" She changed lanes. "Who knows, we could be spending a few nights in the car."

"But motels are so... dirty. Not to mention sketchy."

"They're also cheap. Most of the cash has to go towards food anyways. Eating out is going to be expensive."

Freddie frowned. Sam was being uncharacteristically responsible and thoughtful. Well, she did make food the first priority so he supposed that she couldn't be that different.

After about ten minutes, the effects of the slow songs on the stereo, the dark surroundings, and the rhythm of the car's movements lulled Freddie into sleep. His head pressed against the car window and soft snores escaped his mouth.

Sam sighed, hoping that he wouldn't leave too many smears on the window. She hated cleaning up after people, including herself. MapQuest estimated that the drive to Cannon Beach would take about four hours, leaving about three hours to go. Luckily, Sam wasn't tired. She'd slept until past noon yesterday and had indulged in two coffees that evening.

When Sam had left, she didn't leave a note, not a hint of explanation. It wasn't that she didn't think her mother would worry or care. She would, at least a little bit. Then, most likely, her mother would get over it, forget about it.

Sam hadn't entirely figured out why she'd wanted to run away in the first place. She'd thought it was only about her aunt and scattering her ashes, but she was beginning to think there was a little more to it. Was it the rebellion? The excitement? Was her mother the reason? Did it have something to do with Freddie? No, she eliminated the last question. He was just there, a passenger, not the reason.

After about three more hours of driving, four more loops of the CD, and plenty of quiet snoring from the passenger seat, they were within view of Cannon Beach. It was characterized by the huge rock located on the beach, called Haystack Rock, which was over two hundred feet tall.

Sam checked the clock. It was nearly four in the morning, and she could see a bit of light seeping up over the horizon. Reaching over, she flicked Freddie in the arm to wake him.

"Ow!" he cried, jerking suddenly as his eyes flew open. He rubbed his shoulder, glared at her, and sat up straight in his seat. "What was that for?"

"We're almost there," replied Sam. "I'm gonna find some place to park."

Freddie groaned loudly. "It's four in the morning. Why did I agree to this?" He closed his eyes and stretched out his arms, nearly hitting Sam in the face. She batted his hand out of her face and turned left down a narrow street.

Cannon Beach was a very small town with less than two thousand people. Absolutely no one appeared to be awake, and not a single light shone through the windows of the compact lines of houses and storefronts. Sam turned down a small road that led behind a restaurant where she ultimately parked.

When the engine cut, Freddie pushed open the car door and stretched out his legs. There was a crick in his neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position against the car window, so he attempted to roll it out. Sam gave a cat-like yawn where her mouth seemed to overtake her face.

Then she popped the trunk and retrieved Aunt Louisa's urn. She also grabbed a mid-size red bag. "My swimsuit," she said. "There's a gas station down the street. We can probably change in the bathroom."

Freddie nodded and took out his own clothes bag.

* * *

><p>"It's the most beautiful beach I've ever been to," Freddie admitted. The sun was just rising behind them, casting rainbows over the water. There was a light breeze rolling in from the ocean, bringing in cool air and a soft mist of sea water. Sam was wrapped in her green beach towel, looking slightly cold. She'd placed the urn between the two of them, and Freddie couldn't help but find it a bit odd. At least no one else was at the beach yet.<p>

While the quiet still remained, Freddie laid down on the sand and allowed himself to relax, though he was unable to fall fully asleep. At the same time, the sun was picking up speed as it rose in the sky, bringing with it warmth and light. He sighed and opened his eyes. "My mom will be noticing I'm gone by now."

Sam checked her iPod screen, which she had been fiddling with while he rested. "It's barely six."

"Yeah. She'll definitely know I'm gone." He felt vaguely guilty then. He'd left a brief note, if only to prove he wasn't kidnapped. It probably wouldn't make much of a difference anyway because she would still worry. The note had said: _Don't worry, Mom. I'm okay, just out for a little trip. I'll be back. _Thinking back, the note hadn't made much sense. What did 'a little trip' even mean? He tried to push his mother out of his mind, so he could attempt to have some fun.

At this point, Sam had left his towel on the beach and was making her way to the ocean. She jumped a little bit when she touched her foot to the water. It was obviously still quite cold. Freddie joined her. He too was struck by the temperature but still followed her in deeper. Early morning was not prime time for swimming.

"Okay, let's both dunk at the same time," Sam said, quivering a little in the waist-deep water. "We'll get used to it faster."

Freddie nodded. "5, 4, 3, 2..." he said, leaving off the one as usual.

With a deep gulp of air, he sank underwater. The cold, salty water enveloped him and stung at his squeezed shut eyes. A few seconds later, he popped his head back out of the water, still freezing. Sam's teeth chattered, and her blond hair stuck to her neck.

Despite the rather frigid water, they both managed to have fun. After about ten minutes of coldness, they acclimated to the temperature. They swam a bit, though the salt hurt their eyes and tasted terrible. They splashed each other, buried their feet in sand, and made somewhat pitiful looking sand castles that the waves carried away.

After about an hour, Sam left the water and walked back to her Aunt's urn. Freddie followed behind. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'll just put a little in the sea." She was quiet now, not her usual self. He understood and sat on the sand, giving her a little privacy as she scattered a pinch of ashes into the water.

Sam returned a few minutes later, the urn clutched in her hands and her eyes slightly red. Freddie decided not to mention it. "Would she have liked it here?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "She loved the ocean and swimming." Glancing around her surroundings, she added, "It's just beautiful here. I wish we could have gone some time."

Freddie waited as she wrapped herself in her towel and started rubbing her wet hair. "So, about that motel?"

She nodded. "I saw one down the road."

The motel's owner, called Robert from his name-tag, raised his eyebrows when we entered. He was middle-aged with black hair and glasses, which he peered at the two teens over. Freddie supposed he had good reason to look a little apprehensive. After all, they were dressed in their swimsuits and towels, and they were still dripping water a bit. Not to mention, it was about eight in the morning, not the usual time to rent a room.

"Um, could we have a room?" asked Freddie, taking his wallet out of his bag. He checked the prices. They were quite cheap, which he predicted would be fitting when they saw the quality of the room.

Robert sighed and studied them, probably making some snap judgments. "I'm not going to mention that you're supposed to be over eighteen, that you're supposed to rent after four in the afternoon, or that you're supposed to be wearing a shirt. Hand over the cash."

Freddie was surprised. This didn't seem like a typical, completely legal establishment. Whatever, he was exhausted in spite of his naps. He passed over a few bills to Robert and received his key to Room 5.

Robert pointed down the left hall, directing them towards their room. Freddie turned the key and opened the door, revealing a remarkably awful looking room. The dirt-colored carpet was probably chosen so only the minimum amount of cleaning had to be done. The two twin beds were covered in an extremely itchy looking red blanket with two sad, flat pillows. Spider webs lined the ceiling fan. That wasn't even getting into the bathroom.

However, Sam and Freddie were exhausted. As soon as they laid down on their beds, they were asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the delay. I had this written for a while, but I didn't really like it so I didn't upload it. I finally got around to editing today. <strong>

**I've never been to Cannon Beach, but it seems like a really lovely place. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and leave a review if you want. Thanks for reading!**


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