Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, I was going to name it iSam, and everything that happened would be different and I wouldn't troll anyone because I don't appreciate people playing with my fangirl feelings!

Pairings: Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?

Summary: They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, may be a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast.

Last night I made the most important decision of my life. And after that I couldn't fall asleep. I spent the whole night considering the implications of my decision. Having a child is a definitive thing, it's not something I can take back if it doesn't work and I know that, but what is done is done. That knowledge, however, didn't allow me to rest at all that night, so I lied still in bed, holding my wife and letting my mind go to a dozen different places.

I thought about my mother and father and how there was nothing they could have done to save me from the destiny that had been set for me. I thought about everything I went through as a child and teenager and where that path led me. Now I'm not going to tell some heroic lie and say that everything I went through doesn't matter because of where I am right now. No, everything I went through, every single thing, mattered. But in the end I found my way and I found where I belong as well. And maybe that's just it, for everyone. Maybe we all have to go through hard experiences to become the person we are meant to be. That's life – it's not something I can stop.

Years ago when I was ripped out of my mother's arms and taken away, I didn't know that after many years I would be able to find happiness again. Life is in constant motion, we're always moving forward, and only the past stays behind us. Maybe it is time to finally let go of the things I've been through and move a step forward. In the time I grew up many things happened, many things changed, and maybe the same will happen again to my children. Maybe they'll be able to live in a word different from the one I did. I can only pray for it and hope it will happen.

"Good morning." Sam whispers against my shoulder.

I wasn't ready for her to wake up yet. A whole night was not enough time, and I needed more time alone before I had to face her.

"Good morning."

"Mmmm…I've never slept so well in my life." She yawns.

"I'm glad you had a good night." Because mine was a troubled one.

"It was amazing…although…"

"Although?"

"I'm a little bit sore." She smiles.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry." I caress her face.

"It doesn't matter. I'm so happy."

She lifts her head to look at me and I can see her eyes shimmering. I don't have the heart to tell her that in a few years, she might be waking up to some guys from Visualize knocking on our door, ready to take one of our children away.

"Me too." I kiss her forehead and hate myself for lying to her like that.

Sam smiles again, so bright, then reaches out to kiss me. I hold her face in my hands and let her take the lead. I can feel her firm breasts against my chest and I think about last night. I could pass it off and say it was an "in the heat of the moment" kind of thing, but I know it wasn't. I had been thinking about that the whole night as well as a few nights before that. I've made my decision, and now there is no turning back.

"And I'm hungry." She stretches and rolls to the side. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really." I say and she looks at me suspiciously. "Actually, I'm still pretty tired. I think I'm going to stay in bed for a few more minutes."

"I did a number on you, didn't I?" She flirts in a mocking tone.

"That is true." I agree.

"I rocked your world, Benson." Sam tickles me under the chin.

"If you'll recall, I rocked your world as well, ma'am. So, you're welcome."

"Whatever. I'm going to go and take a shower. Be downstairs for breakfast in twenty, otherwise there will be nothing left for you!"

Sam gets up from the bed, wrapping a sheet around her, the same one that's caught on my foot. I hold on to the sheet until it's completely off her body and pull the covers away from her.

"Yeah, I don't think this is necessary." I say.

"You just want to stare at my ass."

"That is very true." I smile.

"Pervert!" She sticks her tongue out at me and walks into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

I sit back as the smile fades from my face and think. My whole life I fought; I fought against the army when they took me away from my mother, I fought against the bullies in the training yard, I fought against soldiers, some not much older than me, and I fought against myself. I'm always fighting something, or someone, maybe it's time for me to stop and just accept the loss. The only question is, will I be able to love these children for the time I'll be given? Because the way I see it, they're not mine. They'll be a loan from Visualize, given to me to take care of and love until the day they come to collect them. No, these kids are not mine, they never will be.

And I must accept things I cannot change.

"Come on, Freddie, we're going to be late!" Sam yells from downstairs.

It's our first exam session as a couple. Visualize always wants to make sure everything is going according to their rules. I don't even want to know what happens with people who fail the test. Bu in my case, I know nothing will show up, so I'm good. Well, as good as I can be anyway. I hate doctors, hospitals, tests, and medicine, but it's standard procedure. More and more, I find myself irritated with everything I'm forced through, and I know it's not going to stop. The knowledge that I'll stay the rest of my life living this way just irks me.

Hoping and wishing is bullshit, I know nothing will change and that we're all doomed. If it wasn't for Sam, I seriously would not want to live in this world anymore. When I was twelve, after my very first time holding a gun I prayed the whole night for God, Jesus, or Superman to come and save me, and guess what? Nothing happened. Things only got worse, but I learned to accept the fate that was given to me, and I grew used to living that way. It didn't mean I liked it, only that I knew there was no other life for me. So why is it so hard to just do the same thing now? I'll still have a few years before I have to deliver my children to Visualize on a silver platter, I might as well make the most of it.

"I thought for sure you got lost up there." Sam says from the bottom of the stairs when I come down.

"Sorry. I was just…procrastinating. I hate doctors."

"Me too, but let's just get going and get this over with." She gives me her hand, and call me cliché, but suddenly things weren't so bad anymore.

"I've been thinking." Sam says.

"Uh-oh, that's not good. Ouch!" I rub my ribs which Sam just elbowed.

"We should host a dinner." She says, getting into the car.

"And why is that?"

"Because, well, we never did it. We went to Carly's and Brad's for dinner, then Wendy's and Gibby's, but we never hosted our own dinner. And we should invite our other neighbors as well."

"And why should we do that?" I start the ignition.

"Come on, Freddie. I don't know, I'm trying to be a polite neighbor here, which is already hard enough for me, so give me a break and help me." She punches me on the shoulder.

"Look, this week will be super busy for me, okay. I've been working on that new project I told you about and, well, it's the biggest one so far. I don't think I'll have time to host a dinner, besides it will only be more work for you anyway, so why would you want that?"

"Carly and Wendy did it, so I thought…" Sam lowers her head and I sigh, "If they can do it, then I sure as hell can."

"I wasn't saying you can't do it, Sam. I was just saying you don't have to. Come on, Carly and Wendy are Carly and Wendy, let them host dinners and wear aprons." I chuckle.

"So, basically, you're saying that they can be good housewives, but I can't?" She glares at me.

"No, I was just saying it's not your thing." I say, foolishly trying to make amends.

"Wow, nice Freddie. If I am such a lousy housewife, you should've just said so."

"Sam-"

"So, what's next? Am I a bad wife, too? Are you going to tell me now that I can't be a good mother as well?"

Her voice is sharp like a knife, but masked with hurt. I didn't mean for her to think that, and I didn't say any of that, but sometimes she only hears what she wants to hear. That's one of the reasons why I never told her the reason why I don't want to be popping out kids, so Visualize can take them away. I believe that she knows that already, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it, because sometimes, Sam only sees what she wants to see.

"Look, I never said any of that and you know it." I'm aware that my voice grows a little impatient. "I was just saying that you don't have to do that. Wendy and Carly have this idea that people expect things from them, so…"

"You're right, you know. Nobody ever expected anything from me. I'm aware of that fact. My mother kept repeating that to me many times, so I get it, Freddie, you don't have to tell me twice."

I groan in pure frustration and stop the car on the side of the rode. Sam looks at me as if I'm insane, and opens her mouth to speak, but I'm faster.

"Sam, I don't understand why you're trying to give me a hard time today, especially since we had such a great night last night, but I'm not going to feed your accusations. I never meant that no one expected anything from you, and I never said that you're not as good as any of them, but if that's what you want to believe, fine Sam, go ahead. But I'm not going to sit here and let you make me the bad guy when you know that the only thing that I meant was that you're not a prissy ass housewife like they are, and not that there is nothing wrong with that, but you're just not like them, you're special. And we both know you're not exactly a social person. Now, I'm not saying you're unpleasant to be around, but you don't really have a moderate amount of patience in you.

"I'm working a lot lately, and I'm tired. I don't want to come home and have to play nice neighbor, not even to my best friend. I just thought it was out of character for you and I could already picture how uncomfortable you would be throughout the whole night, and I'm sorry for being such a lousy husband and not wanting that for you."

Finishing my speech, I start the car and don't even look her way. I'm not really up for bullshit today. I'm tense, stressed and just plain annoyed. These routine exams are driving me mad, there is so much on my mind lately, and in addition to that, I might be a father soon enough, so really, let's just say I'm not in the mood today.

"Margery, the stuck up bitch next door practically implied that I'm a bad wife." She says.

"What now?" I turn to look at her.

"I heard her when I was taking out the trash before you came downstairs. She was telling one of the women who lives next door to her that she pities you."

"Pities me?"

"Yeah, for having the misfortune to be stuck with such a lousy woman for a spouse."

"What made her say that?"

"I uh…well…I didn't actually clean the backyard, you know. It has leaves all over it and it looks like a mess. The grass is not actually cut, too. And I forgot to put the garbage on the curb for the garbage truck for about a week, so you can tell it smells."

"Sam…" I rub my temples. "Baby, those are my obligations, not yours."

"But you work too much, and I can do it…"

"Did she say that?" I ask, totally annoyed.

"Maybe…she implied that since you're such a hard working young man, I should come through and help."

"You know what? I'll tell that woman to shove her opinion up her ass and shut the fuck up."

Sam laughs, and I can't help but laugh with her. I reach out and take her hand in mine, my eyes on the road.

"Look, Sam, those things don't matter to me, you know? It's not like I expect you to be the perfect wife. I don't want to come home and find out that you slaved away after a hard day of work cleaning up the house when I can be helping you. And I also don't want you to care about what those people say. I couldn't care less, baby."

"It's just…what if I'm not doing this right? I'm really trying, you know? I'm trying so hard to be a good wife, to be a good girl and play by the book…I'm giving up so much of myself already by dressing in these Visualize clothes and to know that I'm failing…it frustrates me."

"I know, it kills me too."

"I used to be such a badass, even as a child, and now I feel like…I don't even know myself. Do you remember me when I got here? Always ready for a fight? Watching your every move like a hawk?" She smiles.

"Oh, I do." I smirk.

"Not everything about that girl was bad, you know. I just miss her sometimes."

"I wish we could live in a world where you didn't have to pretend to be someone else. I just want you to know that you never have to do that with me. With me, Sammy, you can always be yourself. Hey!" I protest when she punches my shoulder. "What was that for?"

"You said I can be myself, and myself would punch anyone who called me that. So don't."

"Fair enough." I chuckle. "I also know that that girl would never care about what people thought about her."

"She cared about what you thought…even on the first night, she cared."

"Well, I'm an exception."

"And why is that?"

"Because I would never ask her to be something she's not." I grab her hand and kiss it. "And because I would accept her no matter what."

"She would punch you for being such a girl."

"No she wouldn't." I laugh.

"Don't be so sure of that."

We laugh together, and for a moment I forget I have two thousand and forty nine million problems and just enjoy Sam's company. God, she does make things worth the sacrifice.

"Do you think I'll be a good mother?"

My smile slowly dies, and just like that, I'm brought back down to earth.

"I know you will." I say, and I mean it.

"How do you know?"

"The same way you know I'd be a good father. I just do. I look at you and I know."

"I hope you're right, because I have no experience whatsoever, and my mother wasn't exactly a good role model."

It breaks my heart to know she didn't have a good mother to grow up with. Despite all my mother's flaws, she was still a good parent, and for that I'm grateful. And I know Sam will be a good mother exactly because she didn't have one. Knowing her the way I do, I can already see it, her giving our child everything she didn't get. She's just so special, and any kid would be lucky to have her as a mother.

"Well, think of it this way. Carly will have her baby first, so you can always learn from her obvious mistakes." I shrug.

Sam laughs so hard she throws her head back and the sight gives me a warm and lovely feeling inside my chest. I've always loved her laugh and I think it would look great in a child.

"That's true."

"See? We're all good then."

"All good." She smiles, and kisses me on the cheek. "Yeah, we'll be okay."

I just wish I could believe it as much as she does.

Sam and I arrive at the clinic. It's a one floored building that used to be a supermarket. I hold her hand and we make it through reception, giving each other the support we need. I know that this is as awful to her as it is to me. The idea of getting pricked with needles and examined in front of a strange doctor unnerves me to the bone. We direct ourselves to the front desk and I squeeze her hand for support.

"We can do this." I tell her.

She nods but doesn't speak, and I know she's biting the inside of her lip in nervousness. The prospect of being naked in front of strangers doesn't excite me either – because if this is anything like the exam I had before getting married, we're definitely not going to be wearing clothes for a while.

There is a young woman behind the glass doing her nails and chewing gum. She can't be older than either Sam or I, and she has her legs up on the desk like she's bored and really doesn't want to be there.

"Hey." I tap on the glass to catch her attention. "We're here for the exam."

"Oh, sure." She says, mouth full of gum. "Your name?"

"Fredward and Samantha Benson."

"Do you have to say that name?" Sam hisses in my ear.

"Sorry, babe, it's your birth name." I whisper back.

"Fredward and Samantha." She reads on a piece of paper. "You just sit and wait, as soon as the other couple is done you can go in."

"Thank you."

Sam and I sit next to each other and I try not to look around. The waiting room is massive and there are at least seven or so couples here. The exams started a week or two ago. Brad and Carly already got their results. Of course, both of them were clean.

"Do you think this will be like the one we had to do before getting married?" Sam whispers.

"Well, I'm pretty sure it will."

"Ugh! I don't want to be naked in front of some stranger." She hisses. "Not again."

"Don't worry, babe, at least it will be a woman." I try to comfort her.

The idea of having another man with his eyes on my wife didn't please me at all. It was so comforting to know at least in this area Visualize did things right. It also didn't please me that I had to be examined by another man, but it's not like I wanted another woman to see me naked…it's just…a guy thing. It's uncomfortable and weird. I guess men don't trust other men with that, not as much women trust other women.

I look around at the other couples in the waiting room – older couples, younger couples, just too many couples. The nurse calls them by pairs, I guess with the intention of speeding up the process. For a post-war world organization, Visualize has too much technology, but coming from them it's doubtful it's ordinary. I just wonder how they can have so much. I mean, raw material to build cars and buildings? Seems suspicious to me.

"You think they'll poke around my lady parts?" Sam whispers in my ear.

"I don't know, babe. Didn't your lady doctor do that already?"

"Yeah, she did, but…ugh, I don't know, I just don't like doctors, more specifically strangers and people touching me."

"People in general or just some people?" I smirk. "Because if I remember correctly, which I do, you really like to be touched."

"Oh, shut up. You know what I'm talking about." She laughs.

"All right, I guess. But look at the bright side, at least you didn't freak out and lose your mind in the first examination, right?" I laugh, but the way Sam stares at me tells me it's not funny.

"You did that?" She whispers.

"I was still too fucked up from the war, let's just say I didn't want anyone to be touching me." I shrug.

"So?"

"So, what?"

"What happened?"

"They had to strap me to the bed, but it's in the past now, Sam, it doesn't matter." I rub her shoulder, because it really doesn't matter at all. I've moved on, I'm fine now.

"I just…everything you went through…hurts me." She stares down at her hands. "I'm sorry. I wish things were different."

"Me too, but you don't have to feel sorry for me, it's not your fault, baby." I kiss the side of her head.

"I know, I know. I just…" She sighs, and rubs her hand on her face. I immediately regret opening my damn mouth.

"I shouldn't have said anything. It's done now, Sam, it's all done, okay? I have you and you have me and we're good."

"For now."

"No, forever. Now how about we move past that?"

"Have you ever imagined what it would be like if we had met under normal circumstances?" She smiles.

"What do you mean?" I don't really know what she means by "normal circumstances."

"Oh, come on, you know. If the war never happened and we were able to grow up like our parents did – you know…free."

"Uh…I try not to think about what could have been. I just think about what it can be, Sam. It's a waste of time to wonder about things that will never happen." I shrug, trying to brush off the subject. I don't actually think about the possibilities of a normal life, I guess I just grew too used to the reality I live in to think about anything else.

"I bet you would be a geek. I mean, you have this whole nerdy thing about you…" Sam starts, obviously ignoring what I just said. "And I'd still be a badass."

"But I lived in Seattle and you in Texas. How would we have met?" I ask, really annoyed. Does she really have to go there?

"I don't know…I always thought I would move out of Texas to a big city and start fresh. You would probably go to college and I would be a waitress or something. Then one night you would be sitting at a table eating those two eggs with the bacon smile and drinking coffee, while studying of course. And I don't know…some jerk would try to slap me in the ass and you, having this hero complex you have, would try and defend my honor, but I would kick the guy's ass and tell you I didn't need any help. We would fight, but you would always come back and sit at the same table anyway.

"One night, I would start a conversation, telling you how pathetic and nerdy you are and we would be…friends? Nah, probably frenemies. But then, some months after all the sexual tension that had been increasing, you would ask me out and I would say no. But you wouldn't give up, so eventually I would say yes. It wouldn't be easy, but the sex would be fantastic and at some point we would fall in love, but I would chicken out because loves scares the crap out of me. We would break up, but then you would go after me in the rain and we would kiss and make up."

She tells the story with such comical expression that I have to try and contain my laughter.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Sam says, really quick before returning to her story. "Then we would be together, at some point I'd find a better thing to do than being a waitress. Maybe start a cupcake business, since I'm pretty good at it and you would help me with the administration, and you would be smart and people would throw promotions your way. One day, you would propose to me and I'd say yes, because by then I'd be less scared. We would move to a bigger apartment, because I'd never move into the suburbs and we'd have at least three kids and a dog. There, that would be our love story."

"For a girl who claims not to be romantic you sure told a good story for a chick flick." I laugh.

"Oh, shut up." She crosses her arms against her chest.

"I think you would do a lot better than a waitress, Sam. I think you would move to the big city to attend some fancy cooking school and we would meet in between colleges. Maybe a friend of yours or mine would hook us up and the first date would be a disaster and we wouldn't like each other at first, but then we would become…what was that again? Oh, yeah, frenemies. But somewhere along a bumpy road of fighting, sexual tension and jealousy, we would fall in love and be together. Now the part where you would have your own business and I'd be the boss of whatever work I had can stay the same. And I think I like my version way more."

"Well, I like mine, because at least it's realistic." Sam shrugs.

I'm about to answer when some woman starts to call out for people.

"Thomas and Elle Hut. Edward and Maya Stonen. Oliver and Sarah Connelly. Fredward and Samantha Benson."

I feel Sam tensing by my side and hold tightly to her hand. It's time…all right, I'm ready for this, I've been ready for worse. My only concern is Sam, and I guess that transpired onto my face, because soon enough she is glaring at me.

"I'll be fine, Freddie. If you can do this, then so can I. And besides, I've never backed down from anything before, I'm not going to start now."

She gets up before me, still attached to my hand, making me get up as well. In the end, she's the one dragging me out of my chair, and I recognize that sometimes she can be way stronger than I am – most of the time, to be honest.

We follow the other couples through a long corridor as I grasp her hand firmly. I'm not afraid of what's next, I don't fear the results, I already know everything will be fine – but doctors make me uneasy anyway.

"Ladies to this side, please. Gentleman, follow the man in the white coat on that side, please." The woman says.

I feel Sam hesitating to let go of my hand, and I guess I must be doing the same thing, because the woman in yellow scrubs pulls Sam by the arm. It's like everything goes by in slow motion as our hands are torn apart. I watch her enter the cold white room while I'm being pulled to another. And that is the last I see of Sam – the last I'll be seeing of her for a while.

The exams were awful. I had an awful day. The damn nurse didn't let met be with Sam and I couldn't even hold her hand when they pricked her with a needle. I had to be tested for hours and pricked with needles everywhere. I don't know what they are expecting to find, but I can guarantee they won't find anything. I'm sure I haven't been unfaithful and neither had Sam. We're all the other can take, anyway.

I'm currently waiting in the reception area for Sam. Her exams are longer than mine because she's a woman, I think. I'm still trying to recover from having to…put my jizz in a cup so they can investigate whether I'm fertile or not. I don't know what the point of this exam is. I did it once before I married Sam, do they really think I'm going to suddenly not be fertile anymore? And besides, I've never been one much for masturbation, no matter the circumstances. In my entire life, I'd probably made the bold man cry seven to nine times, which is not normal for guys my age, I know, but what really gets me going is the human warmth, the smells, the tastes, not just a stupid picture or something.

I spot my wife walking into the room looking utterly traumatized. For a moment I wonder what went down in that room, and I get up, already feeling my blood start to boil. Sam walks up to me and hugs me fiercely.

"Tell me what they did to you and I'll kill them all." I whisper in her ear with anger and hate ready to burst out.

"Don't hulk out." She whispers. "I'm fine. I just really hate doctors, strangers and people touching me."

"You wouldn't lie to me, right?"

There's a tiny doubt about that in my mind. Not that I don't trust her, but she lied before, so…I only doubt because I know she would lie to my face if it was to protect me. She wouldn't say a word if something happened because she wouldn't want me to "hulk out" in front of at least five guards.

"No, not anymore." Sam pulls back, looking a little offended I asked. "Why would you even think that?"

"I'm sorry…I just…you're right. I just want you to be all right, that's all."

"You need to slow down with the hero complex, Freddie." She whispers angrily. "Because believe it or not, I can take care of myself."

"I'm sorry, you're right. Let's not do this in here."

Sam nods and sighs, hesitating before taking the hand I offer. I don't want her to be mad at me…I just want her to understand. We walk to the car and I let go of her hand so we can both get inside. Once I close my door and she closes hers I turn to her, ready to apologize.

"It's something that started in the war." I tell her. "It wasn't my first battle, it wasn't the first time I'd killed a person, it wasn't the first time I saw a friend of mine die in the middle of the battlefield, but still, it doesn't matter, because it's always different every time."

Sam looks at me with a mix of confusion and distress.

"You know Sam, when you see the people you learned to care about die every day in front of you and you can't do anything to help them, it makes you think – at least it makes me think. I always thought I could've done something different, that I could have, but I didn't, so I feel the guilt. I couldn't save my father. I couldn't stop them from taking him, and I couldn't stop that man who shot him to death. I couldn't help my mother. God, I don't even know where she died or how. I don't know if she suffered, I don't know if it was quick, I don't even know what kind of shit she went through. I was impotent, I was useless, and I was weak. I couldn't stop myself from taking all these lives, even though I kept telling myself it was the right thing to do,but was it really? And what about the lives I couldn't save in the field? My friends died around me and I couldn't even save them, I was impotent. I couldn't even save my own captain, the man I learned to see as a father, from going into that building, into that fire and burning to the ground.

"I tried. I swear to you I did. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, and I didn't even care for Brad's screams. He kept saying "you can't save him anymore."I knew I couldn't, not after the explosion, not after the building started to collapse, but I went in anyway. I looked, I tried, but it was hard. I kept going, kept telling myself I could do it, I was trained for it, damn it! So when the fire got to me I was forced to get out of there before the whole thing collapsed over me, but I always wondered if there was something, anything, I could've done.

"You know, Sam, when I put my mind to work and think and contemplate the facts, I know, logically, that I could've saved him, and if I stayed there one more moment I would've died too, but something inside of me always feels so…helpless. The fire burnt my skin…" I lift my shirt a little so she can see the scars, "but still…the pain seems so small now, and I always think I could have endured more, stayed longer, or been faster. I can't help but think I could have done something that I didn't.

"And with you…I feel like I have the chance to protect you, no matter what I have to do. With you I never want to be weak, never want to take any chances, I never want to be a little too late. I know, Sam, I swear I know I'm being too overprotective at times…well, most of the time, but I promise you it's something I'm working on. I never want you to feel helpless, like you can't take care of yourself. And I don't want to take care of you because you can't do it yourself, but because I want to…need to, really, and because I feel like this time I can do it."

"It is not your fault." She says sharply. "You cannot carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Freddie. Not everything has to be your fault. You can't protect everyone and save everyone. You have to accept that, otherwise you'll never be able to move on. You'll never be cured from your traumas, you'll never really be happy. It's over and done with now, and things happen the way they need to happen. You have to accept it."

"Do you think I don't want to? Do you think it's easy for me? Sometimes I try so hard I get lost in my head as I seek some sort of redemption, some sort of forgiveness, but I'm so lost I can't find it."

Sam reaches out for me and touches my face. It's only when I feel her thumbs wiping away my tears that I know I'm crying.

"Let me help you."

"I would if I could. Let's just go home, okay. I'm tired, you're tired. Let's just leave this whole conversation behind." I put the key in the ignition and turn away from her.

"You have to let me in, Freddie, even in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind. Sometimes I can't help but think there is so much you keep from me – so much you don't want me to see. And I don't know why. I'd love you anyway and you know that."

She turns to her side, looking out the window. I start the car but don't really go anywhere, and we sit in silence for a while.

"It's not that I don't want you to see all the sides of me, Sam. It's not that I don't want to let you in the deepest, darkest, places of my mind. It's that I still can't do it myself. There are thing I'm still keeping to myself. But I promise that the day I'm able to deal with the skeletons in my closet, you'll be the first person I let in."

One of her hands touches my face softly. Her touch is always so soothing; it warms me up and calms me down. I turn my head to her, and she rests our foreheads together. Her breath is hot against my face, her hands play softly with the hair on the back of my neck and the other tugs on the collar of my shirt.

"Okay." She whispers. "Okay. All right."

"Thank you."

She brushes her lips against mine softly before she pulls away.

"Let's go home. All this intensity has made me really hungry."

"Your wish is my command."

I drive home, relived she let it go – for now. It'll have to be good enough for now.

I'm almost past the kitchen door when a knock sounds from the front door. When we got home I was sure I was going to have some time to rest and just spend the rest of the day with Sam and relax, but I guess that's not happening. Sam groans from the couch where she threw herself the first chance she got and covered her eyes with her arm.

"Can you get that?" she sounds exhausted.

"Yeah, sure babe." I'm not less tired than she is, but I can't even begin to understand how awful it must have been for her, today of all days, so I do what she asks. "I'll get it. And to hell with whoever is out there."

I open the door and see a very nervous Brad tapping his foot on the floor. He's cracking his knuckles. He never cracks his knuckles unless something really bad is happening. I almost curse him for bringing his bad news to me, but then I remember he's my best friend, and that's part of the package. I just hope Carly and the baby are all right.

"What's up, Brad?" I try not to sound mad or upset or frustrated because this could be important.

"I have to talk to you." He announces, looking around nervously.

"Oh…"

The last time he looked this nervous…well, it wasn't a walk in the park. I prepare myself for the worst because I know what's coming will be bad for sure.

"What is it?" I hear Sam yelling from the living room.

"Come on in." I tell Brad.

He nods and follows me in, closing the door behind him. The last thing I wanted right now was to bring trouble to Sam, but I guess I have to stop being so overbearing. Maybe I've got that in my genes, maybe I took after my mother in that respect. She wasn't the easiest parent to deal with and maybe I developed some of her craziness – it was bound to happen. Well, I have plenty of craziness to deal with already, it's not the right time to be melancholy.

"Brad, hi." Sam gets up quickly, assuming a more tense posture. "Is everything okay? Is Carly okay? Is the baby okay?"

"Carly is fine Sam and so is the baby, thank you for asking."

"Oh." She sits back on the couch. "Then why are you here? No offense."

"None taken." He answers, tucking his hand inside his pocket. "I'm here to talk to Freddie."

"Whatever you have to say to him you can say in front of me." Sam announces, visibly annoyed.

Brad gives me a side look, but I nod my agreement to Sam's words. We promised no more secrets or lies, so whatever he has to say to me, he can say in front of my wife.

"You need to come with me, Freddie." Brad tells me, but looks carefully at Sam.

"Why?" She stands up, assuming a more protective position next to me.

"The president wants to see you. Now."

For some reason I don't feel afraid or threatened. I don't know why, but I have the conviction that this meeting is not going to put me at risk. I feel a certainty that I'm not in harms way, but I turn my eyes to Sam, and she doesn't seem to be feeling what I'm feeling. I take her hand and her eyes turn to me instantly. I never want to look in her eyes and see fear in them ever again.

"Babe, I'll be fine. I'll come back in a couple of hours." I kiss the back of her hand and she pulls me closer to her.

"Freddie, I don't know about this." She whispers nervously.

"Sam, I'll be fine, okay? Brad will come with me." I kiss her forehead and then turn my attention to Brad. "Can Sam keep Carly company? I don't want her alone here."

"Sure." Brad nods.

"I'm not afraid of being alone here!" She protests.

"I know that, but I won't be comfortable leaving you alone while you're so nervous. We had a stressful day and you're nervous. It won't do you any good staying here on your own, pacing around the room, waiting for me to come back. Go keep Carly company and I'll be back before you can miss me."

She gives me a hard look, but I can tell the battle is won. After I see her shoulders relaxing a little, I hug her tight and take her by the hand.

"Should I change my clothes or...?"

"No, you're fine. Let's just get this over with." Brad walks out of the house, and I follow closely, pulling a very angry looking Sam with me.

After we arrive at Brad's house, he opens the door for Sam, and before she can get in I pull her close, resting my forehead against hers.

"I'll come back to you." I tell her with my eyes closed.

I can feel her sighing and relaxing against me, so I take her face in my hands and kiss her gently.

"I'll always come back to you." I whisper.

"I know." She whispers. "Just…get home soon. I wanna crawl into bed with you and never leave again."

Chuckling, I kiss her goodbye and very unwillingly release her. She walks into the house and looks at me one last time before closing the door behind her. I squeeze the bridge of my nose and then turn to Brad.

"What's really going on?" I ask him.

"I don't know. All I know is that while you were out a messenger came for you. I was coming home with Carly the doctor's appointment when I saw him. I asked him who he was looking for and if I could take a message. All he said was that the president wished to see you today and that was it. All I know is where to take you." Brad scratches the back of his neck. "Is there something I should know?"

"Come on, I'll tell you on the way." I signal for him to get into his car. "Where are you taking me?"

"That new building you're working on."

We get into his car and he starts to drive. I can feel his nervousness and it's starting to become contagious. I have absolutely no idea what's going on or what the president wants with me. Perhaps to talk about the propaganda we agreed on filming, but then why didn't he ask Sam to come along? Perhaps he wants to talk about the building…but I'm not the engineer responsible for the work sight.

"Freddie, I just want you to know that whatever happens, you're not alone." Brad pulls me out of my thoughts.

"I know, just...take care of Sam if something happens." I say.

He nods.

Brad doesn't say his infamous everything will be okay, nothing's going to happen, he just drives in silence. I guess he finally got the clue that I'm not as stupid as I look. Whatever is going to happen, I'm ready for it, as long as I have the guarantee that Sam will be safe.

Coldplay – Death And All His Friends.

So, I know it's been a long time since I've updated, and I'm sorry to let you guys down, but things have been crazy lately. I got a job, and I have a million of other things to do. I'm also into other shows, and to be honest when I have time to write, I just don't because I'm just so not into this anymore, that all I wanna do on my free time is watch Castle, or Raising Hope or Once Upon A Time. And I'm sorry guys. I know most of you are disappointed with the ending of iCarly and how everything happened, I know I'm there too, but I'm not sure if I can keep this fic going. Part of me is just busy as hell and just wants to rest on my free time. Part of me is so into other stuff that just doesn't have to will for this. Part of me is just disappointed with iCarly ending, and part of me knew this was going to happen. But most of all, I just been working on something new, something of my own (original work) and the time I have to write I just end up writing the new thing instead of this. But I'm going to try to update this story until it's over, I don't want to disappoint you guys like Dan did. Instead of 50 chapters, like I originally planned, I'm going for 40, and I'm going to try to write everything. I have chapter 33 on the making, but so far it's not good enough, so I might have to make a few adjustments, but I'll try. I cannot promise a sequel, but who knows what might happen, right? But the truth of everything is: since the Klaine break up I've been a little too sick of OTPs, disappointed really, and probably hurt, which means I have a serious problem and have to get a life. So, I'm sorry, again, and I promise to try and see what I can do to make this work. Love you guys.

Edited by the always awesome clarksonfan.