Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

A/N: It's been a while since I posted anything and this story has been in the works for the past week or so. I'm working on 2 one-shots so my updating might not be as great as it was with 'Solid' but it will be fast. I promise.

This story will be told completely from Sam's POV and it IS a Cam fic, so if you have a problem with that, then you'll probably only be reading the first few chapters. I appreciate my readers and hope this lives up to your expectations, and if not, oh well. Thanks anyway. Much love.

Chapter 1

I take a deep breath and climb out of the back of the cab, pack thrown over one shoulder. The towering building has a small lobby, the same dull paint on the walls and the same psycho for a doorman, who's watching me like he's never seen me before. He hasn't, at least not like this. I ignore his attempts of scaring me away and climb the stairs to the eighth floor, pausing on each landing before continuing. Six years have me nervous, even though I'm shrugging it off like it's nothing. I need to face the hell that's going to break loose no matter what.

I reach the eighth floor and make my way to the ever familiar door that I had broken into so many times. This isn't going to be the same thing. I'm not even sure what I'm expecting when I knock on the door, adjusting the pack on my shoulder. Ten minutes pass before I knock again. Maybe no one lives here anymore, I think to myself, frowning. I hear a throat clear behind me and turn to face the host.

Leaning against the opposite doorjamb across the hall was a tall brunette boy, no man, his arms crossed. I take in his appearance, the slight hint of facial hair above his lip and along his jaw, his striped polo and ripped jeans, and the barely visible pink scars randomly placed on his arms. He nods at the door behind me. "Are you looking for the Shays?" he asks, a trace of annoyance in his voice, as if he had been interrupted. I tilt my head, suddenly curious to know what his problem is. "They aren't expected back from vacation for another hour or so," he informs me.

"Thank you," I murmur, and he shrugs. Does he even recognize me? Six years changes a person, both inside and out, and if anything it's made me tougher than I was before. I have to admit, I'm scared to know that both Shays are here. I would have guessed that one of them had moved out over time, but if the Bensons still live across the hall then neither Shay would have left.

We watch each other in silence, daring the other to move first, and Benson finally shifts, glancing over his shoulder. "Are you okay waiting out here for them?" he inquires. His eyes meet mine and for a split second something flickers in his before he looks away. "I have to get back to something, otherwise I'd keep you company." I lean against the wall next to the Shays' door and force a tight smile. His smile is weak as he turns and disappears into his own apartment, closing the door behind him.

I'm such an idiot sometimes. I should have asked if he knew it was me, instead of creating an awkward silence. Sitting against the wall, I stare at the Benson door, wishing I could have said more to him, but he probably hates me enough as it is. After all, I'm the reason for the scars on his arms. Everything is my fault, at least everything that involved someone getting hurt. If I hadn't been so stupid, things would be better.

Six years ago…

I sit on the couch in the Shay apartment, Carly's head in my lap, and we're laughing about some stupid joke that was on Girly Cow. Fredward is surfing the web, probably to find himself a girlfriend, one as nerdy as him. That would be the day. He still pines over Carly, but he's actually toned it down quite a bit, only dropping hints when the topic rises. Carly just laughs it off and declines every time and I know it hurts him. What goes right in his life? I mean, aside from the good grades and iCarly. No girl has ever shown interest in him and his mother is a crazy psycho freak that embarrasses the hell out of him.

The episode of Girly Cow ends and our laughter dies with the power on the TV. Carly sits up and I smirk at her, holding a finger to my lips as I stand, shaking off her hand that snaps around my wrist, and I move silently to stand behind Freddie. My fist connects with his shoulder blade and he screams like a little girl, falling off of the stool and glaring up at me. I'm howling with laughter and Carly's shaking her head at my actions, fighting a smile at the same time. Freddie jumps to his feet and shoves me before leaving the apartment, and I shrug, grabbing a root beer from the fridge. My cell phone beeps and I glance at it, noticing the time.

I hop onto the counter in the kitchen and drink half of the cold beverage, drumming my fingers on the ledge. Carly walks into the kitchen and raises her brow at me, taking the root beer from me and taking a sip. "Do you mind?" I ask her, reaching for my bottle. She hands it back and grabs a peppy cola before jumping onto the counter next to me. "Can you believe the little tug munch shoved me? I think he needs to grow a sense of humor."

Carly shakes her head in disappointment. "Sam, you really should leave him alone once in a while. That really wasn't cool, what you did." I smirk because it isn't the worst thing I've ever done. One time I actually "accidentally" broke his leg when we climbed a tree a few years ago. Fortunately, that's the only time he could have gotten seriously hurt. "What happens when you push him too far?" she asks, breaking my memory.

"Come on, Carls. I'm not going to seriously hurt him. If he gets hurt, it won't be my fault, I promise you that." I chuckle. "Besides, torturing the nub is fun." I take another drink and my phone beeps again, this time with a text message. "I have to go. Melanie says she needs me home before Mom hurts herself," I laugh. Carly pouts. "Do you want me to come back when I'm done?" I question, bumping her shoulder with my own.

She shakes her head. "No, I'll just see you tomorrow. Be careful on the walk home," she whispers and I slip off of the counter, patting her knee as I toss my bottle in the recycle and leave the apartment. I hate lying to Carly, but if she disapproves of my actions toward Fredward, she would be beyond furious at what I was going to do tonight.

Footsteps bring me back to the present, and I stand just as two people come around the corner. One I recognize almost immediately, his face the same after these past few years. The girl at his side, however, has changed since the last time I saw her. Her brunette hair is streaked with light blue and her face is older, but her eyes are the same. They each have a duffel bag thrown over their shoulder, both laughing. I shove my hands in my pockets, still nervous.

They freeze in their tracks to look at me, puzzled, and Spencer's brow pops up with realization at my pack. He takes Carly's bag and unlocks the door, leaving her in the hall with me. "Hey," I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady, but all I want to do at this moment is run away and cry. She frowns and glances toward the Benson's door before grabbing my wrist and pulling me into the Shay apartment. Closing the door, she crossed her arms and sighed, turning to me.

"Why are you here?" she mutters, her eyes on the ground. My heart drops. This was a huge mistake, to come here and think she was going to want me as a friend again. She threw her hands up. "No letter, no call, no anything for six years and then you show up and act like…I don't know you anymore, Sam. Where were you?" She doesn't know? I thought for sure someone would have told her.

"I…I thought someone told you and you didn't want to be friends anymore, Carly." She looks at me with the same confusion and I frown. "I thought you were so disgusted with me that you didn't want to know me anymore." The look on her face tells me that no one bothered to tell her and I was no longer nervous. I was furious that everyone had kept the truth from my best friend. "Look, I'll explain everything later. Can we just…I haven't eaten anything since yesterday."

She nods and leads me to the kitchen, handing me a take-out box. "I really wasn't planning on eating it later. Spencer wanted it so I boxed it." She smiled weakly. "He'll just forget about it anyway." I open the box to find an untouched loaded baked potato and grab a fork before digging in, not bothering to sit down. "Hey, slow down before you choke," she chuckles. I stare at her sadly. The past six years taught me to be quick or lose. "God, Sam, what happened to you?" I shrug and finish the potato, throwing away the empty box. Carly took the fork from me and tossed it into the sink. "Do you need anything else?"

She isn't being rude or blunt, and I think that was always my favorite thing about her, no matter how many times I joked about her being such a priss. I shake my head because I don't want to be a pain and ask for too much. For the past six years, she had been blocked from the truth and she didn't deserve that. "How was vacation?" I ask, sitting on the couch. I don't want to get too comfortable, in case she tries throwing me out, because it's what I deserve. I should have at least written her to tell her I was sorry, instead of assuming.

She shrugs and turns on the TV. "I had fun, I guess. Granddad doesn't have much experience in that department." She laughs and I do as well because it's true. Her grandfather has not one fun bone in his body. "Spencer and I kept sneaking off to go swimming, though, and then he managed to catch a wet towel on fire." She shakes her head. "I'll never understand what happened." Her cell phone rings and she glances at the caller ID before looking at me apologetically. I wave her off and lean back into the couch as she goes upstairs to answer her phone.

Spencer passes through to the kitchen and I move to the stool at the bar, watching him as he digs through the fridge for something to cook for dinner. He jumps when he turns and sees me there, nearly dropping the large ham. I raise my brow and lean forward, arms crossed on the bar, my eyes never leaving his. "Do you know where I was, Spencer?" I question. He hesitates before he nods. "Why didn't you tell Carly? She thought I just walked out and didn't come back. Did you tell her that?"

The tall brunette shakes his head and sets the ham on the island. "When Freddie woke up in the hospital, he told me what happened and told Carly some lie about how he got hurt. She was devastated when your mother told her that you just disappeared." I frown at him. "No one wanted to tell her because of who she is, Sam. Did you honestly want her to know?"

I shake my head. "So Freddie was the one who started the lie?" I whisper. He did know it was me in the hallway then. He should, since we had been writing each other for the past six years and he never once mentioned that that is why Carly didn't write. I need to talk to him now. "You could have told her. You should have. At least I would have been able to explain myself. Freddie told you his side, but you don't know anything about the rest of it. God, I didn't even know Freddie was there until I saw the blood, Spencer. I promised Carly that it would never be my fault if Freddie got hurt, and then he goes and gets hurt for something I was doing."

"You didn't put a gun to his head and tell him to do it, Sam. It isn't your fault what happened." I shake my head, the tears threatening to break free. Spencer moves toward me and pulls me into a hug and I cry into his chest, grabbing handfuls of his shirt. Freddie got hurt all because of my stupidity. I hear footsteps on the stairs and wipe my face on his shirt before pulling away and looking at Carly.

"What happened when I was upstairs?" Carly mutters, sitting on the stool next to mine. She hugs me hesitantly and looks at Spencer. "Did you say something to upset Sam?" He shakes his head and starts unwrapping the ham. Carly sighs. "Freddie wants to grab a smoothie, now that I'm back. Do you want to go, Sam? It'll be just like old times." I think for a minute and nod. Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone and talk to him and Carly about what happened.