It's not the best ending, but I thought after four years it deserved at least an attempt at an ending.

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Freddie was there first thing in the morning. "How are you?"

Sam glared at him.

"Sorry. Do we do the whole blink once for yes, blink twice for no thing?"

She blinked three times.

"You're hilarious." But he was smiling. She'd only ever seen him smile like that for Wendy. Sam didn't realize she was mirroring it.

"Hey, Sam?" Carly peeked her head in meekly. "Can I come in?"

Sam glared again. Why did people keep asking her questions when she clearly couldn't answer them? It was worse than being at the dentist. But at least she knew she was forgiven.

"I think that's a yes, Carly."

"You sure?"

"Yeah! She's probably like, 'Whatever, Carls, as long as you bring me chicken.'"

If Sam had been any less happy to see them, she would have despised him. She was not getting any real food and they had the nerve to mock her.

"Or maybe, 'Carls, get me outta this joint, I gotta clip my toenails.'"

Okay. If they were going to make a thing out of it, this was going to be a problem.

"She's here, Sam."

"Send her in," Sam mumbled.

Freddie hesitated, and then said, "This is going to be really hard. But if anyone can do it, you can."

"You bet your butt I can."

Freddie rolled his eyes, but he knew it was the first right thing he'd said. He didn't know what had brought on the change of heart, but he had never been so relieved. Not only had she been complacent enough in the last two days for the staff to let her head out of the body cast, but she had generally agreed to sit still and even allowed a single visit from her least favorite doctor. He knew better than to ask about it. "Have fun."

"Whatever."

As he left, Sam's therapist walked in. "I'm glad you asked to see me. Although I would have preferred hearing about the attack from you instead of Freddie."

"Yeah, well, I've got a question."

"What's that?" She sat down and brought Sam's chart out from her bag.

"How do I stop being a coward?"

The therapist studied Sam for a while. "To stop, you'd have to be one in the first place."

"I am. And that's not me. I want to be myself again."

"Okay. The first step is to address why you feel cowardly. Are you afraid you'll be caught by another man again?"

"I don't want to lose."

The therapist thought about that for a minute, and then scribbled something down. She was rehearsing what to say. Sam didn't like the look of that. But what came out of her mouth next surprised Sam. "Losing is different for everyone. You say that you lost because he hurt you more than you hurt him. But you have friends. A life. A future. Whoever he was, he clearly doesn't have that. Do you really think you lost?"

"He beat me up. I still...I still see him. Sometimes. When I close my eyes." She clenched her jaw. "Sometimes."

"He took your peace of mind. Your body will heal. But you won't until you stop torturing yourself with the idea that you've gone from strong to weak in one night. You haven't truly lost until you let the idea of him take over your life. From what I've heard, you seem to be doing that, a little bit. Sam, you should realize that the rather amazing support group you have can help you move past what that man made you think of yourself. Believe it or not, these people respect you for your strength. That hasn't changed yet. Don't let it."

"And then?" Sam asked quietly.

"And then you'll relearn to respect yourself. Your limits make you human, and that's okay. Learning that is a part of growing up."

One week later, Sam was discharged to Carly and Spencer's apartment. Her gusto was coming back, little by little, but Freddie especially was enjoying this transition period from immortal to dead to just normal. Her being truly bedridden this time didn't hurt.

"But you never got to actually do whatever I said for two hours. Remember? That's what you promised when you almost killed me."

"Hey. Don't blame it on me. I heard laughter was the best medicine."

"If I ever want a lame joke I'll ask you nicely. But I don't want one and I never ask nicely."

"Alright, so what do you want me to do?"

"You can start by getting me whatever in Carly's fridge you think I'll like the most. Better be good."

"And a drink?"

"Yeah, surprise me with that too. You know, I think servitude might be your hidden talent, Freddork."

"Servitude is a big word, Sam. My nerdiness might be rubbing off on you."

"I'm multifaceted."

"Holy crap, you're on way too many meds."

"Shut up. And one more thing."

"What?"

She thought for a while. "You have to do everything I say. For the next two hours."

"Yeah...?"

"Everything. No wriggling out of it like a little Fredworm."

"I'm really starting to get scared."

She smirked. "Kiss me."