'Ello! I said I wasn't going to write another iCarly story, but here I am.

Unlike most of my stories, this isn't all seddie fluff- Shock! horror!- but I hope its good?

Reviews are love! And they might make me do my geography project....!

disclaimer- yeah, right.

.xxx.

"Finish that lap Benson!" Coach O'Donell screamed, as Freddie slowed down, panting.

"I c-can't." Freddie said, his hands on his knees.

He had never been this tired before. Sure, he wasn't a fast runner like Sam, but he always did a lot better than this. He just felt so, so weak today.

"Move it Benson!"

Freddie sighed, and slowly stared to run again.

Halfway along the track, his legs gave way from under him, and the world turned black.

.x.

"COACH!" Sam screamed, running towards the heap that was her best friend, Freddie. "Coach!" She screamed again.

A group was gathering around the motionless Freddie, shocked.

Sam held her breath as she pressed her fingers against her neck, using what little knowledge she had learned at a lifeguard course last year before she was kicked off.

It wasn't her fault she had been kicked off- it was her partners. She didn't mean to push him into the water.

Really.

Breathing out, Sam yelled again. "He's got a pulse Coach!"

The very unfit Coach O'Donell finally made it across the track, his face bright red, and his t-shirt dripping with sweat.

'Go t-to school. Call an amb-bulance" He wheezed, kneeling down beside Freddie, partly because Freddie had fainted, partly because he could barely breathe.

Sam pulled out her cellphone. "No need." She smirked. "I never go anywhere without this bad boy."

Coach O'Donell glared at her. If he was able to speak right now, he would land her in detention for the next year.

And maybe all of high school...

Sam garbled into the phone, telling the operator what was wrong, and the address of the school.

"And hurry." She added quietly, looking at the pale face of Freddie.

.x.

The paramedics arrived at the running track of Ridgeway within minutes.

Loading Freddie onto a stretcher, one of them turned to her.

"What happened?"

"He was running, and he said he couldn't run anymore, but Coach made him. He got about halfway across before he collapsed."

The paramedic nodded.

"Was he moving after he collapsed, or not?"

Sam thought for a second. "He didn't move."

"Not a seizure than." the paramedic said to the driver.

He stepped into the ambulance beside the unconscious Freddie.

"Can I come?" Sam heard herself ask. "Please?"

The paramedic nodded, and ushered Sam inside. Giving Coach O'Donell one last satisfied look before the doors closed, something she was going to pay for later, she turned to Freddie.

Wrapping her fingers around his, she could swear that the paramedic smirked.

"Boyfriend?" He asked.

Sam shook her head, flushing red.

"No-" She began, but she was cut off by Freddie's retching.

Sam jumped back and Freddie vomited everywhere, including Sam's gym shorts.

Rather than wanting to beat the nub up, she was just worried. Freddie was never sick. It was unusual for him to get sick, in anyway. Last time he was sick, was in the fifth grade when he had a head cold.

Sam watched as the paramedic sat Freddie up, making sure he didn't choke as he continued to vomit.

Then, it occurred to her. She hadn't called Mrs Benson.

Pulling out her cell, she dialed Freddie's home number, praying that his mom was home.

Nothing. Why was it when you needed someone, they weren't there?

The ambulance stopped, and Sam opened the doors, and jumped off. She was exceptionally good at opening doors- especially complicated ones.

It was great laugh, when your best friend wasn't on a stretcher puking their guts up.

The paramedics wheeled Freddie into the ER, rattling off what had happened to him.

"15 year old boy, fainted during PE. Had a weak pulse up until he woke up, and started vomiting- his heartbeat went wild after that." one paramedic said.

"Any history of illness in the family?" a nurse asked as they lifted Freddie onto a bed.

it took a second for Sam to realize she was asking her.

"Not as far as I know of. " Sam answered.

"Are you any relation of this boy?"

"his name's Freddie, and no. I'm his best friend." Sam replied.

The nurse nodded. "Do you have a contact number for his Mom or dad?"

"His dad was killed in action a few years ago.." Sam said, looking as the nurse put a drip into Freddie's arm. "I tried his house number, but his mom didn't pick up."

"Do you know where his mom works?"

"Um.."

Sam racked her brains, trying to remember. "Oh yeah! The drug store by the huge new mall."

The nurse nodded. "Come with me, we'll get you some pants or something."

Sam followed reluctantly, tasking one last look at the still puking Freddie. Even from this distance, she could she that he was crying, tears mixed with the vomit on his face.

As another nurse gently wiped it off, Sam turned away, and ran after the nurse who was gonna find her some pant that weren't covered in Freddie-puke.

.x.

Half an hour later, as Sam sat in the stark white hallway wearing her school gym t-shirt, and blue scrubs, Mrs Benson burs in.

"Where's my son?" She demanded. "Were's my baby boy?"

In here Mrs Benson, but-" The nurse began, before Mrs Benson cut her off.

"No buts. I'm going to see my son."

Mrs Benson ripped back the curtain, and Sam caught a glimpse of worn out looking Freddie.

He looked at his mom, and whispered in a thick voice.

"Whats wrong with me?"

.xxx.