Several weeks had already passed since Freddie and Sam finally made nice and came to the agreement of how they were nothing more than friends despite Freddie loving her when Freddie opened his eyes, still lying on his bed with his blankets incasing his lower half, to find Sam leaning over him. He reached up and stroked his love's cheek with one finger as his lips spread into a blissful smile. He reached up both his hands and held her face. She just stared at him. He leaned up and kissed her softly on the lips. She gasped and his eyes went wide when he realized he wasn't dreaming. She was really there and she still hated his guts, meaning he wasn't allowed to even look at her lovingly. He rolled to the other side of the bed and jumped off to the other side of the room entirely before he began to gasp out desperate apologies. Somewhere between the words, "Oh, God, Sam, I am so, so sorry," and "Please, don't kill me," he managed to fuck up spectacularly and tell her he thought he was only dreaming.

"You dream about me?" she cut in as he continued to blubber out ridiculous apologies.

He froze and grimaced. "Well, Sam, I am in love with you. It's only natural that I dream about you." She seemed to pondered this and he took the moment of silence to ask, "Why are you here?"

"When…when you were Anonymous, you would get emails from me in the dead of night. I sent those emails because I needed something to take my mind off the nightmare I had just had. I don't have anything now," she told him nervously, turning away and examining a framed photo of her on his bedside table, the place of importance. He didn't have any other pictures on that table or the other one. It was just hers in a gorgeous blue frame with her name in elegant red block letters. It was lovely and probably the last thing he saw every night, a thought that actually pleased her.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when his hands were placed on her shoulders gently. He took the frame from her hands and set it back down in its place of honor. He rubbed her arms comfortingly and she leaned back against him. She was half-asleep on her feet with her head on his shoulder when he whispered a gentle command. "Tell me."

"My father leaving, screaming at me and Mom. Melanie, leaving, saying she hated me. Carly doing the same. You saying you hate me and were leaving to be with Carly. Saying I'm a bitch and you never want to see me again. Everyone leaving me. Hating me. And it's all my fault." Maybe she only told him this because she was already tired and he felt so safe, but it felt really good to finally tell someone.

Freddie turned Sam around to face him and gently kissed her forehead before looking her right in those beautiful blue eyes and saying, "Sam, I swear to God, I will never leave you. I will never call you a bitch, I'd die if I never say you again, and I will always love you, not Carly. Don't ever worry about that, okay? Carly would never hate you or leave you either. And who cares about what Melanie thinks or who cares about your father. He's a jackass. You amazing and any fool who leaves you is blind and stupid. I love you, all right? Always. And Carly would say the same thing. So would Spencer, in case you're wondering."

She smiled and nodded with her eyes half open. He lifted her into his arms and lied her on the then straightened the sheets and comforter and tucked her in. "So, I guess that answers the question of whether or not I can sleep here tonight."

He smiled and nodded before pulling the trundle bed from under his bed and starting to go to get a spare pillow and blanket from the closet but she grabbed his arm to stop him. Without a word, she moved to the other pillow on the bed, leaving him plenty of room. He lied down next to her after putting the trundle bed back under the bed. When he woke again two hours later to go to the bathroom, she was snuggling him tightly and he struggled on to wake her when he got up. She went right back to hugging him when he got back in bed.

Freddie made breakfast for them in the morning and Sam found herself examining his room thoughtfully. When he was injured from saving Carly, she had only come to visit once or twice. Seeing him lying there looking vulnerable and broken without her causing it made her heart twist in her chest. It was odd to feel that back then and she had hated it. She could handle him limping around on crutches but she couldn't handle him lying on that bed. She noticed the Carly poster was gone but it had been replaced by an iCarly poster with her, Freddie, and Carly all on it. The entire room was just so him and yet so homey, she wanted to lie on the bed and never leave. He'd probably let her, she realized, if she asked. She also realized what that feeling meant. Her home was with Freddie. It always would be. And that could only mean one thing as well and that one thing terrified her.

LOVEYDOVEYLOVEYDOVEYLOVEYDOVEYLOVEYDOVEYLOVEYDOVEYLOVEYDOVEYLOVEYDOVEYLOVEY

Freddie noticed Sam was being really odd around him lately, at least around other people. She spent half the time ripping on him, like usual, but more so. She caused him much more physical pain and pulled out all the stops when it came to insulting him or putting him down. It all hurt a lot more than he was used to and he could barely stand it but he tried his hardest, even when he sat in his room nursing his wounds and checking himself for bruises. Because he loved her and she could tear him apart with her hands and words but that would never change. He just loved her too much.

And besides, when he had nursed his wounds in secret and gotten ready for bed, she would come to him. She had stopped asking after the first few night and had just started climbing onto the left side of his bed, the furthest from the door, to go to sleep. It was her side now and he really had no say in it. No matter how his mom locked the door, she got in and she lied on the bed with him like she belonged there. If he had asked her why, her answer would have been, "Because it's my bed too, Benson," and she would have poked him in the ribs just to emphasizes her point.

Freddie slept perfectly when she was holding him in her sleep but one night when she climbed into bed with him, he sighed and left the bed. He pulled out his trundle bed, his pillow, a spare blanket, and went to lie on that trundle bed. She crawled over to the edge and looked at him curiously. "Why are you sleeping down there?"

"Because you cuddle in your sleep," he answered bitterly. He then turned on his side to ignore her but she wasn't having that. She grabbed his shoulder and slammed him onto his back. He cried out in pain and she leapt off the bed. She knelt beside him and stripped him of his shirt. He grimaced as her eyes widened in surprise at seeing his bandaged and bruises chest.

"Did…Did I do this?" she asked fearfully. Reluctantly, he nodded. She began to actually cry, right there in front of him, and he quickly took her into his arms. She struggled until he released her. "I don't deserve to have you comfort me."

"Oh, come on, Sam. It's just a couple bruises and cuts. Nothing I can't handle. I'm just out of aspirin today. But Mom's getting more tomorrow, then you can snuggle me all you want," he assured her with a nervous little chuckle. She stood up and he followed her example. She started to leave but he bolted across the room and slammed the door shut as she was opening. "Don't leave. I'm sorry. Look, these are nothing. Stay. Please. I'll hold you. Please."

She burst into tears again and turned to hug him gently. "Oh, Freddie," she whimpered. He stroked her hair lovingly before lifting her and carrying her to his bed again. He lied her down and they shared her pillow and each other's warmth. "I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't realize how badly I was hurting you."

"No, no, Sam. I'm barely hurt. It's all just a couple bruises. I can handle it." She continued to silently cry and he brushed away the tears. "Please, don't cry. It's all my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. I'll fix everything, I promise."

"You can't fix this, Benson!" she half-yelled, half-whispered. "It's my fault. I'm the bitch. The horrible, horrible person who's been hurting you for weeks just because she can't handle feeling the way she does. I'm sorry and I promise to stop."

"No," he said, to her surprise. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

"Why not?" she asked in confusion. How could he ask her to never stop hurting him? To never stop hurting him despite his bruises and blood? Why would he ever ask that?

"Because when you're hurting me, you're touching me and I'll take all the pain gladly, so long as I get to feel your hands on my skin for just one instant. The wonderful instances when your wonderful hands touch my skin. God, I'd give anything and everything for those instances. I don't care about the pain." Sam's breathing had suddenly become ragged and her eyes were suddenly as wide as saucers. He sighed heavily and smiled. "I'm a masochist, I guess."

She chuckled slightly and his smile widened. "I'm still sorry. It's not the kind of touching you deserve. You deserve to be caressed and loved but I don't think I'm capable of that, Freddie. I want to be. I wanna be capable of loving you like you deserve. Of showing you my feelings. But I'm too scared. I'm scared you'll hurt me or I'll hurt you. Or I'll do something wrong and you'll stop loving me."

"I will never stop loving you, I've told you that. Sam, you're my world and more. Just tell me your feelings and all get rid of all your fears. I can help, sweetheart." His heart was racing, practically beating him half to death, and all because she mentioned having some sort of feelings. What if she wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her? That would be the most wonderful thing ever.

"I can't," she replied sadly.

"You can. Just tell me. Please, tell me," he pleaded frantically.

Nervously, she nodded yes and said, "I love you. I don't want to love you because if I love you and you hurt me, it won't be a little pain like Jonah or anyone else. It'll be the kind of pain that feels like my heart is being ripped from my chest and I don't think I could handle that pain."

"I will never hurt you," was his own reply before he devoured her lips with his own. Sam moaned in pleasure and he grinned at her when they finally broke for air. "Do you remember the changing room? Do you remember how wonderful that was? What about dancing at the masquerade? Or kissing outside under that tree? I remember how fantastic all that was. Do you?"

"Yes. It's what helped me realize that I loved Anonymous and that meant I love you too. Though more so. 'Cause it's you. It's Fredward Karl Benson, the iCarly tech geek I've been friends with for years but never thought I could actually love. I can't believe I love you but I can't imagine loving anyone else. How weird is that?" she asked with a small chuckle.

He dropped a kiss on her jaw and smiled with a shake of his head. "It's not weird at all. Do you think I wanted to be in love with the girl that continuously caused me both physical and emotional pain? Hell fucking no, I did not. But I love you nonetheless. Marry me one day?"

"Freddie, we're sixteen," she said despite the smile that seemed permanently tattooed on her face.

"I said one day," he pointed out before beginning to kiss her neck attentively. "Think about it, at least." She nodded and he grinned even more than before. After a while of indulging in the pleasure of having him kissing her, she shoved him away and he sighed in disappointment.

"No, Fred-dork. I'm tired. No more. I wanna go to sleep and that means you've gotta go to sleep too. Get the other pillow so we have more room," she ordered him firmly. He did as told and they fell asleep in each other's arms easily, both with smiles on their faces. They both knew everything was going to be all right now. They both had the love they deserved and all the time in the world to enjoy it. Life was pretty damn good.

NOW I'm done. I hope everyone enjoyed it!