A/N: Since creating Jackson Daniel Benson I and II in different iCarly universes, TheWrtrInMe and I have both tried to imagine them together. This very short one-shot is our attempt to do that. I credit my co-writer for the scenario. This story takes place in the Full Circle timeline.

Disclaimer: Jack and Jax Benson were our creation, but they live in the universe of iCarly characters that Dan Schneider created.

It always happens this way. I never know where I'll end up, but it always seems to happen on the big days. The ones that make me wish I could be here, really here with the people that I still miss. And the ones I've never had the pleasure of meeting.

It's late, nearly midnight. That doesn't matter very much me now. Time and space are the concerns of mortals, because in the living world, both are finite. Limited. As they were for me, and that was something I learned the hard way. I thought I would have more than thirty-eight years in this world. Time to grow old with Marissa. Time to see my son grow into a man. And time to become a grandfather.

And so here I am, in his room. My grandson's room. The grandson who carries my name. Jackson Daniel II. Except I was Jack, and he's Jax. That's his mother's touch. Sam's not quite my daughter in law. Not yet. It's not that Freddie hasn't asked her, more than once, but that's just a matter of time. I was here tonight, watching them at Jackson's first birthday party. The three of them look so good together, and they simply love being around one another. The apartment was crowded, and they were busy, Sam keeping everyone fed, Freddie keeping his mother calm, and Jax simply being the center of attention. Yes, they're a family. They're also my family. And I wish I'd been there for this. Really there, not just some essence in the corner of the room.

I never believed much in an afterlife. I always thought you lived your life to the fullest, until the day that it ended. When it was over, it was over. And for me it was over too soon. But it turned out not to be the end. I'm still here, even if it's not as part of the living, breathing world. And I'm drawn back to the ones I always cared about. It's like that first time I came to see Marissa again. One year to the day after the arteries leading to my heart decided they had enough. It began as nothingness, and suddenly I was with her, in our bedroom, suddenly surrounded by the smell of lilac and, well, hand sanitizer. This was Marissa, after all. I was there, and so was she, sitting in our bed, our wedding picture in her hands as she wept. I wanted to speak to her so badly, and tell her that I still loved her as much as that day I married her. I wanted to touch her, hold in my arms, and tell her to carry on and live her life, for her own sake, and for our son's. And the moment ended as suddenly as it began.

Freddie was still a toddler then, but he grew, into a boy, then into a young man. He had my looks, and my brains, but also my awkwardness with people. I wanted to be there for him, to teach him by example how to be a man, and to care for the people who would come to depend on him. But he did learn to care for the people that mattered, and it happened in a way that I never anticipated. In the beginning, I found myself looking at him in his room, as he slept. But at a certain point, I began to see him in different places, especially across the hall from his own apartment. When he met them. The two girls who changed his life, and made him grow up. Freddie grew up in that upstairs studio, but it had little to do with the camera in his hands, or the show they were producing. And it had little to do with the brunette girl he so passionately believed he loved. No, it was obvious to me from the first time I saw them together. He and the blonde girl, Sam, focused on each other completely. Neither could be in the other's presence without having their complete attention. They were so convinced they hated each other. I wanted to scream at my son to wake up, to open his eyes to what was so obvious. But that wasn't my job. Freddie had to do this one himself.

Time passed, and I visited Freddie in other places. And she was usually there. On the fire escape. In their studio, and at school. And at the little smoothie shop across the street. When he brought her food, knowing that she didn't have any at home. When she was hurting and tried to pretend she didn't want comfort. When he stepped in to protect her friendship with her best friend. And then I saw them one night at school, followed by a night at a … well, mental hospital, but it was par for the course with them. And then on an elevator, when they thought they were saying goodbye.

They didn't stay apart that long, for when they separated, there was already something uniting them forever. He wasn't planned, and everyone knew that seventeen was not the time to have a child. But they also knew that a child is a gift, whenever he arrives. And I was there in a farmhouse in Georgia, when he went to get his child's mother, and brought her back to her new family. I was there that June day, one year ago today, when he was born. And now I'm here tonight, watching my grandson. And watching my son, who is now a father himself.

I go closer to look at my grandson. I thought he was asleep, but I'm mistaken. He looks up, directly at me, and smiles. It's the first time anyone has sensed my presence. I so wanted to know him, and I wanted him to know me. There's so much I wanted to do with my grandson, so much that I wanted to teach him. But I have to be content at having done it indirectly, through my son. Freddie did well. Really well. I'd tell him that if I could. He didn't just do well by his son, he did well by that little blonde girl who became my grandson's mother. Who has joined him to make a family. A family that I know will grow as time passes.

I feel myself fading away, as I often to during these visits. I can't control it. It just feels that the moment is complete. The last thing I see is Freddie entering the room…

"Freddie, come to bed, I'm tiiiiired!" Sam managed to whisper through a yawn.

"Be there in a minute, Princess. I want to make sure Jax is asleep," I whispered back. I didn't intend to take long, since I was craving some pillow talk, and I didn't expect Sam to stay awake for long after playing hostess all night.

Sure enough, Jax was still awake, fixated on that same corner of the room he always stared at. I don't know why he did it, but every so often, he'd stare intently at the corner of the room, as though he saw something.

"Happy birthday, Jack," I said to my son as I pulled him out of the crib and into my arms. "I know Mama calls you Jax, but you're Jack to me, because you're named after your grandpa. I wish he could have met you. He was a great guy, and I know he'd have loved you. You'd have been spoiled rotten. I wonder what he'd say if he were here. I hope he'd tell me that I did good."