"Freddie." The nurse calls into my room. "A friend is here to see you."

The same tear stained Carly that I have seen 2 to 3 times every week since I've been paralized two months ago. She is holding a thick stack of papers and a photograph. She looks so weak and fragile standing there. I really just want to hug and comfort her, which is strange because most people would think I'm the one that needs hugs and comfort.

"Freddie." she says weakly. "I have something to show you." she holds up the stack of papers in her right hand and I see it has a lot of writing on it.

"The doctor said the best way to help you get better was to show you that a lot of people are loving, and supporting you, and rooting for you to get better."

"This is a picture of a collage made by a class of 5th graders in Ohio." she held the picture in front of me, a little too close to my face, but I could see that it was a group of screenshots and photos of me all put together to form my name, 'Freddie'. I almost cried, Sam would be so dissapointed in me.

"These are some comments sent in by iCarly fans after our hiatus episode." her eyes filled with tears, but she continued to try to read the comments.

"From RootingAmanda, Freddie, hope you feel better! My brother and I were watching the hiatus episode, and it just wasn't the same without-" Carly choked on her words. She looked in my face, and I could tell she saw nothing. Just a blank, expressionless, mannequin of my true self. She didn't see any of my personality, my likes, my dislikes, my smiles, my laughs, my frowns. She saw nothing. I was here, on the inside, but she just couldn't see through.

She dropped the stapled papers before running out of the room in a fit of tears.

That's what I was doing to the people I cared about.

Forget Sam Puckett.

I could hurt people without even lifting a finger.

Later that day, my hospital door opens and what I see is not a doctor here to do more tests, not a nurse here to tell me one of my friends came to visit, but Sam Puckett smirking in the doorway.

"Ya' miss me?" she asks. I can't say I did, but I can't say I didn't either. How did she get here without her three security guards though?

"I'm sure your eager to know how I got here without those chizy guards following me around."

I am. The past month after the whole 'Sam and Earl' incident (I haven't seen Earl since.) They have tripled Sam's security and our meetings have gotten more and more boring every day. Instead of treating me like I'm 'oh poor little' Freddie like everyone else, Sam was the only one that treated me like I was still the same old Freddie. Now even she's being forced to give me special treatment. But not anymore. Sam did what she does best and was able to find a way to work around the system and defy authority. Now here she is. No security guards, no rules, just the two of us.

"Well it was easy really. Everyday, I walk up to the receptionist and tell her that I'm here to see you. She sends a nurse to tell you I'm coming, and calls down my guards to 'escort' me to your room. On one of my visits I noticed that I came right when the receptionist's were switching shifts. 5:30. I had to wait 5 minutes before they were finished getting there things together and switching places. I accidentally came at the same time a week later and the same thing happened! I was very annoyed, but you know what they say. 'when life hands you lemons, make grape juice, then sit back and watch the world wonder how you did it.'" She smiled. "Freddie. Those receptionist's are my lemons, and I'm about to crush you into grape juice." I silently gulped.

"And guess what else Freddie, everyday, your getting twice the Sam! I'm gonna come once with security, and once by myself." she smirked. "So I can spend quality time with my favorite nub!" she said patting me on the head even though I couldn't feel it.

"Besides," she said as she started to leave the room. "I have a lot of catching up to do." she finished, leaving the room.

All I can do is dread our next meeting.

But unfortuntely, her dramatic exit was ruined when she almost slipped on a stack of papers that littered the floor. I inwardly laughed at that fail of a dramatic exit. She glared at me

"I know your laughing in there and you better stop it! No one makes a fool out of Sam Puckett!" She lifted the papers of the ground and smirked.

"Well what do we have here." she read a litte of the first page. "Aww, a bunch of love letters for Freddie. How many are there, 16, six of which are from your mom!" we both knew from the stack of papers that it wasn't just 16 very long comments, but I'm sure she also wasn't expecting to see over 65,000. Her surprised gasp was satisfying.

Even though, the revelation of the actual amount of comments ruined her insult, and was a stab at her pride, she didn't try to retort or back herself up. She merely just sat in a corner by my bed and read them. Sometimes she would mumble to herself and I would hear some of the heartwarming things people said to me, but mainly, she was quiet. Occasionally, a doctor or nurse would walk in and check to make sure my breathing was steady, or see if any of my nerves started to work again. They never noticed her, though. She was in a spot where they couldn't see her unless they were looking, and she was being quiet, not to mention, I wasn't doing anything to give away her position. Hours passed before I heard her speak again. I assume she had read through a few thousand. She got up and looked me straight in the eyes.

"67 of those comments were from your mom." she shook her head. "How nubby." she looked down at the papers. "But uh...you've got a lot of people who care about you." and I saw pure honesty in her eyes... and tears.

Sam glared.

"I'm not crying. The tears didn't fall, so it doesn't count." she said quickly wiping them away.

Because Pucketts don't cry.

They tried their hardest not to.

And due to this fact, Sam was trained to quickly go from emotional, to intimidating.

"But I swear. If you EVER tell anyone about this when you get better, I'll break all your limbs, and then snap your spine so you're paralyzed again." and when she smirked, I knew she saw it. The fear in my eyes, proof that her intimidation was a success.

Because she can see through. I wasn't a still-life to her. I was Freddie.

But why her? I could tell, even my own mom felt like I was slipping away. Why my sworn enemy?

All I can do is wonder what made Sam Puckett so special.

I know! I'm updating a lot! Hope you enjoyed the chapter and remember to please notify me if you would like to be a beta.

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