Confide In Me

Author's Note~ Okay so this is my first iCarly fic. I wrote this randomly at 1 in the morning yesterday, so I apologize if you think it's bad. xD I normally don't write in first person, but I felt it was the best way to go for this one. It is rated T for swearing from Freddie. He strikes me as the kind of guy who would cuss up a storm in his head due to his temper but wouldn't say them out loud because he's a gentleman. Sorta.

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly or any of it's characters. I'm just merely playing with them.

Sam POV

As I walked through the door, I noticed my two best friends, Carly and Freddie standing in my living room, as if they had been waiting for my arrival. I know why they're here, and I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go crawl up in my room and die!

"Sam?" Carly asked, seemingly concerned.

"Just leave me alone." I walked up to my room, locked the door, and collapsed on my bed. It didn't take long before I began to sob uncontrollably. Carly, Freddie, and even my mom (shockingly), wanted to comfort me, but I had no desire to see anyone. I didn't want Carly to look at me with pity like she always does. I didn't want my mom to act all sympathetic when I knew deep inside that she didn't give a damn how I felt. I didn't want Freddie…I didn't want Freddie to see me cry, to see me at my breaking point. After successfully ignoring their pleads for me to come out of my room for a few hours, I heard yet another knock at my door. Why couldn't they just give up already? It was probably Carly, and surprisingly, she was the last person behind my mother that I wanted to see.

"Go away!" I screamed. They didn't answer, but I didn't hear footsteps retreat so I knew they were still there. That's odd. It's not like Carly to remain silent like that. Normally, she would continue to pound on the door and beg me to talk to her. The silence only infuriates me more. I aggressively wiped my eyes, jumped off the bed, and roughly flung open the door. I widened my eyes at the person standing in front of me. It was definitely not Carly. They just stared at me calmly, silently, without moving a muscle. I could finally the tears stinging at my eyes again, threatening to spill over. Before I knew it, I ended up in their arms, the tears flowing uncontrollably.

Freddie POV

To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. I was flabbergasted. And yes, I just used the word flabbergasted. Sam has always been a tough girl, constantly antagonizes other kids, including me. In all the time I've known her, I've only seen her cry once, and that was after a near-death experience from almost falling off of a 14 story building. Seeing her in this emotional state scares the hell out of me, all the more reason to find out what happened to her before she came home. She wouldn't even tell Carly, so there's no way on this planet that she would ever tell him anything. She hates me. Almost a little too passionately. I personally care about her but not even the devil himself would make me say that out loud.

Man, just looking at this girl so distraught is starting to make me teary-eyed. I can't cry though. If I cry, I'll never hear the end of it. Besides, someone has to be the strong one right now, right? Looks like I'll have to keep my cool. She stops crying, but for some reason, she's still holding on to me. She actually seems pretty calm and content in this position. After what seemed like a decade, Sam finally pulled away from me, hair frazzled and eyes swollen and blood-shot. She looks me straight in the eye and doesn't say a word, causing prickles of unease to shoot up my arm. Sam's never silent. I open my mouth to say something, but I close it when she finally starts talking. This is the first coherent thing she's said in the past 5 hours.

"I'm sorry." She said monotonously. I raise my eyebrows. Sam apologizing? Under any other circumstance, I would probably tease her about this, but that doesn't seem appropiate right now.

"For…what?" I asked uneasily.

"Everything." I stiffen and remain silent. Sam apparently took this as a cue to continue.

"I've treated you like crap all these years. Y'know, calling you names, putting you down, abusing you." She said almost sheepishly, "Now that I think back on it, I'm not even sure why I did all that stuff to you. I just…"

"Sam." I cut her off. She snapped her attention to me. "Don't worry about it, okay? I forgave you a long time ago." Whoa, did I seriously just say that? What is wrong with me? Am I losing it?

"Yeah, well I still feel like I should apologize anyway." She said embarrassed. Umm…okay? Apparently, we're both losing it.

"Why? What happened?" I ask her as gently as I possibly can. Unfortunately, it's not as gentle as I hoped it would be, but I guess when someone lives with a freakshow like my mom, that's to be expected. She glares at me, but I can tell it's just a feeble attempt to try and appear tough again.

"It doesn't matter." She said with a shaky voice, "The point is, I'm sorry for every horrible thing I've done to you, and I'll try my best not to torture you. I don't want to feel guilty if some sort of freak accident ever happens." Her eyes start to water again. Looks like she's gonna have another breakdown. I don't think I can take much more of the emotional Sam.

"Hey Sam. Sam!" I shake her shoulders. "You need to calm down. You're getting yourself worked up again." I know I'm being a little abrasive with her but, honestly, that's the only language Sam understands, and it apparently works too because she decides to rest her head on my shoulder. I begin to subconsciously stroke her hair. I'm pretty sure I'm crossing the line between comfort and creep, so I move my hand down to her and rub it awkwardly. Yes, this is awkward. What the hell else am I supposed to do? I'm surprised she hasn't killed me for touching her yet.

It took a while, but she finally told me what had happened to her this afternoon. It turns out that she found out her dad was stuck in a coma today, and that he would most likely not wake up. Damn. Poor girl. I actually feel sorry for her right now. With a neglectful mom, Sam had only her dad to look up to. The problem was, he was in the military so she hardly got to see him. The last time she'd seen him was when she'd been 7. 10 long years without a real parent. That had to suck.

I, myself, don't really know the feeling of having a dad because I never knew mine. That might be the reason why my mom is so messed up, but I've never really paid much attention to it. It's hard to miss someone you never met. Sam's dad was the only person who'd ever really understood her. Her mom thought she was a hopeless failure. The sight of her like this is so pitiful. I kiss the top of her head and rest my cheek in her curly blond hair. Where the hell is all this affection even coming from? I am so dead later, but I guess for right now, it's all right because she's not complaining.

It's kinda weird seeing someone like Sam cry because it rarely happens. She's not like Carly, who I've seen cry more times than I'd like to count. Don't get me wrong, Carly's not a crybaby. But compared to Sam, she seems like one. Sam's always been "one of the guys", which is why she doesn't get nearly as many boyfriends as Carly does. I've always found her complicated, and I guess, if you get past all the abuse, kind of pretty.

After she tells me everything about this afternoon, she gets up to take a shower and relax herself, which I strongly encourage. I try one last time to convince her that everything will be okay in the end, because people usually come out of comas. I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince more, her or myself. It takes a while for all the stuff she told me to sink in, so I just kind of chill out in her room. I look around the place curiously. I've only ever been in this room, once 4 years ago, and the room had looked a lot different then. Now, the room, rather than being black like it was then, was all purple. Hmm, I've never pictured Sam as the kind of girl who would like the color purple. I've always thought purple was a girly color, so I've always associated it with Carly. As I'm examining her room, I hear the phone ring down the hall. Ms. Puckett isn't here, so I figure it's up to me to answer it.

"Hello? Puckett residence."

"Is Mrs. Pamela Puckett home?" a woman with a raspy voice asks me.

"No, she is not."

"Well, is there another Puckett I can speak to?" she clears her throat. She needs a Puckett, huh? Sam's not out of the shower yet, so who else could the lady talk to? It's probably important, so I can't just dismiss her.

"Yes, there is. I'm her…son." I'm really digging the grave deeper. Hopefully, Sam will forgive me? Maybe? Probably not.

"Oh I see. All right then. This is Mercy Hospital in Seattle. I'm sorry to tell you this, son, but Mr. James Puckett passed away last night." I drop the phone. I can still faintly hear the lady trying to apologize again, but my attention is no longer focused on her. I have to think. Think, Freddie! I'm gonna have to tell Sam. Oh, damn. Why do I always get the shittiest job? I'm the one who has to look in those big blue eyes and break her heart. He's her hero and she hasn't seen him in 10 years! And I'm supposed to be the one to tell her that she can never see him again? Fuck! I hate this! My shoulders are shaking now, and when I reach up to touch my cheek and find that it's wet, the warm tears begin to stream even more.

I can't bear to see how she'll react. Whether I care to admit it out loud or not, she's one of the most important people in my life. I sure as hell don't want to be the one to break her. I can't! I won't! But what if I don't? What if I don't tell her, and she finds out on her own? Would she be pissed at me? Well, that's definitely a given, but the real question is, would she forgive me? I don't want to end up higher on the hate list than I already am, and I certainly don't want her to disown me like she did with her mom. Apparently, her dad had been in town last year and her mom didn't tell her and even refused to let Mr. Puckett see his daughter. When Sam found out, oh man. It was bad. I can't even describe it. I can not make that same mistake. As cruel as it is to tell her, it'd be far worse not to. It's her dad, so she has the right to know. As much as I really don't want to, I have to tell her, as her friend. Friend? Are we friends? Whatever. It doesn't matter. As of now, telling Sam is my duty, and duties are meant to be followed.

The clock jolted me out of my inner turmoils, and when I look at it, I notice it's been an hour. Sam had to be out by now. I slowly drag myself back up the wooden stairs. My feet feel like they're made of lead as I get closer to Sam's room. When I opened the door, I found her curled up asleep, her long, blond hair like a blanket over a face. I try to look away, but it's as if I'm glued to the spot. I've seen Sam sleep many times, but never like this. She looks so innocent, and kind of…dare I say cute? Can that term even be used to describe Sam?

As I continue to watch her sleep, I decide that it can. I tiptoe to the bed and raise my hand to shake her shoulder, but I decide against it. She's had a long, hard day. If there was ever a time she actually deserved to sleep, right now would be it. I spot her royal purple blanket over at the edge of the bed, grab it, and lay it over her small form. The blanket is really beautiful, hand-crocheted with 'Samantha' sewn in blue on the bottom right-hand corner. After I cover her up, I kiss her on the forehead as if she were my own daughter, and silently leave the room, switching out the lights. I can wait until she wakes up, because after she gets the news, I might never see her look that peaceful again.

Author's Note~ Love it? Hate it? Seddie shippers wanna kill me because I didn't write a love confession or sex scene? Well, get over it. I'm here to write entertaining stories, not satisfy your pervy fantasies. You want a sexy scene? Go somewhere else. Putting that aside, how did I do overall? I accept constructive criticism. Also, I apologize for some of the paragraphs towards the end. xD