I worked sooo hard on this so I would seriously appereciate feedback on this! And some of the events and here are based on my own life.... care to guess which ones??? Anyways, enjoy!



Samantha Puckett is reckless.


When she's little she wants nothing more than to be a princess when she grows up. Every night before she goes to bed, her father tucks the covers around her and begins the familiar "Once Upon a Time" tales of princesses and knights in shining armor.

He tells her that she'll never need a knight in shining armor because she'll never find one that loves her and wants to protect her as much as he does. Then he kisses her forehead and whispers, "Goodnight Princess." And she always knows what days will be spent underneath her pillow. It's when her Daddy, her knight in shining armor, slurs his, "Princess." And she smiles tightly and she knows somebody so small shouldn't know something so big but somehow it's all her fault anyways.

If she was better, daddy wouldn't hit mommy. If she were smarter daddy wouldn't be so angry. If she were prettier daddy wouldn't always have that bottle that made him so angry. And when the screams get a little too loud and she tip toes out of her bed and peaks around the corner of her door. Then she closes her eyes shut tight tight tight because she's pretty sure Princesses aren't supposed to see what she's seeing.

Then she crawls back into bed and puts the pillow over her ears. And while the silent tears slip down her pale cheeks he slips into her room. She can feel the bed creak under his weight. His rough fingers wipe away her salty tears. "I'm so sorry Princess," he murmurs and she knows he means it. After all he's her knight and she's his everything. And he'd do anything to protect her.

When she's six her daddy kisses her forehead extra hard after whispering his apologies. The next night he's not there. Or the night after that. And at first she sobs and sobs and sobs but it doesn't bring him back. She's left without a knight and suddenly she doesn't quite feel like such a Princess. And she doesn't think she really likes the Princesses anymore.

It's time to take fate into her own hands.


After her daddy leaves her nothing is ever quite right again. Because even though her mother always liked to claim independence, she was never much good at it and Sam watches as loser after loser parades around her kitchen. And she soon learns how to judge the character of a man based on the bottle that he drinks. But it doesn't really matter because they never last for long.

She watches as her mom begs and pleads because she always somehow manages to ruin a relationship. Some of the men hit, others don't, but they all have a glass in their hand and Sam despises how spineless her mother truly is. And after every break up she watches as her mother curls her hair and mascaras her lashes and promises promises promises, they mean nothing to her anymore, that the next guy is going to be different. That he'll be the one to change things, to fix things. She watches as her mother starves herself to be prettier for the men and she watches as she changes herself to please them. She's pathetic and weak and Sam can't stand her.

She promises herself she'll never be anything like her mother.


It's hot, even for July, and all three of them are sucking on the cherry popsicles. Carly eats too slowly and hers streams down her arm in red rivers and drip drip drips into a bright red puddle at her feet. Sam eats one after the other and Freddie already threw his away, declaring it too sticky.

They're on the sidewalk in front of the Puckett house for their 'play-date' as Mrs. Benson dubbed it. Sam feels herself get more restless in the sun and she's itching to do anything to chase away the boredom. She hops on one foot as she waits for Carly to finish her popsicle. "Let's move it along Shay," she whines. Freddie glares.

"Don't rush her, she'll get a stomachache," he scolds her and Sam rolls her eyes.

"She'll get a stomachache," she mocks in a high falsetto and smirks as Freddie's face reddens.

"Both of you be nice," Carly warns. She finally finishes her popsicle and Sam is off. Carly and Freddie follow, confused.

"Where are we going?" Freddie questions as Sam leads them towards the edge of the neighborhood.

"Aren't we supposed to stay in front of your house? Won't we get in trouble?" Carly frantically asks.

"She'll never even know we're gone," Sam answers. She ignores the rest of their protests until she arrives to her destination. It's like a piece of the country in the middle of the city and all because of the ancient pieces of metal melded in front of her. They're rusty and she immediately jumps on one and begins walking along it. Pretending that she's a gymnast on a balance beam. Carly and Freddie just look up at her, confused.

"Why are we at train tracks?" he studies her and she wants to scream at him to stop. It feels like he's staring right through her and seeing all of her little secrets.

"Just wait, it get's better," Sam hops from edge to edge. Carly bounces nervously and Freddie is bent over expecting flowers when the earth underneath them begins to shake. Carly and Freddie look to her curiously as she beams down at them. "Get up here! This is the best part. The goal is to be the last one on the tracks. You want to stay on as long as possible, okay?" Carly and Freddie's eyes widen.

"Sam, that's dangerous!" Carly shrieks. She holds her hand for the blond to take, "Come on, let's go play hopscotch or jump rope."

"No! This is my favorite!" she stubbornly stays on the track, despite the fact that it's shaking beneath her.

"Come on Sam, you're being reckless and irresponsible," Freddie begins to lecture her but Sam just glares.

"Stop using words that nobody cares about Benson. Live a little," she hisses tauntingly at him, "Do something fun for once in your life."

"I do lots of fun stuff!" Freddie shouts.

"Prove it," she smirks in the way that clearly states that she won. Freddie looks her dead in the eye, and joins her on the track.

"You guys, stop! Please! Somebody is going to get hurt," Carly pleads from her spot on the ground. The train whistle pierces the air and Freddie and Sam turn their heads. It's coming closer closer closer. Freddie gulps. Sam smirks.

"Don't lose Benson," she taunts.

"I won't," he demands firmly. The train approaches closer closer closer. Sam knows she should jump. But as it comes roaring towards her, she feels alive. And then, she's flying.

She's flying through the air and she lands with a thud on the ground and Freddie lands half way on top of her. She pushes him off angrily. "What was that for?! You can't push me! That's cheating!"

"Fine, you won," Freddie stands and reaches for her hand and yanks her up, "You won. Are you happy? We almost died but hey, you won so it doesn't really matter does it?" Sam stands there blankly and Freddie walks away shaking his head. Carly's eyes are wide with fear and she glares at Sam disapprovingly.

"How could you be so reckless?" she whispers before turning around and walking away. Sam's not stupid. She knows it's reckless. Dangerous. Stupid. But for those few seconds, she's alive, she's free.

The only time she feels alive is when she's being reckless.


She knows that the swings are kind of girly nub thing to like, but she can't help herself. It's autumn, her favorite time of the year, and the leaves are brilliant oranges and reds and she feels a little reckless, a little unstoppable.

The park is empty, besides Freddie, whom she dragged down to the park when she realized Carly was in Yakima. She jumps on the swing and pumps higher and higher and higher. She likes to think if she just tries hard enough, eventually she'll touch the sky.

She's wanted nothing more than to touch the sky. To hold it and believe in it. She thinks the sky is the prettiest shade of blue in this exact moment and she thinks if she could just grab a piece everything would really be okay. Because it's endless, and stable and for some reason it fills her with wonder and awe and hope.

"I want to touch the sky Freddie," she whispers in a way that's not very her, not very Sam at all.

"Why? That's stupid Sam," he shrugs his bony shoulders and she wants to cry. Because only he could ruin something so elegantly simple with four thoughtless words.

She shrugs, "Never mind." Because she's not quite sure how to explain it or if she even can. He studies her for a moment and then turns towards the slides. But she looks up and reaches her hand out.

She just wants to finally be the one to touch the sky.


Sam's favorite game has been the same since she was a child.

It's a little game of make-believe, of pretend. When she's little she likes to pretend that she's a princess. It makes her giggle and clap her hands and her golden hair is always adorned by a sparkly sparkly sparkly tiara. Her daddy used to take pictures of her in her hot pink boa and glittery tiara and her mother's high heels. But then he left and she realized that playing princess really was pretend and she let the pictures burn at the ends of her mother's cigarettes.

But she never really stops playing. It's just soon enough it becomes less of a game and more as a means to survival. She pretends every time she smiles. But she does it anyways because if people knew the truth, knew how weak she really was, she thinks it'd kill her. Besides, it's the only game she's really good at without cheating and it's nice to finally be better then Carly at something, anything. After all playing pretend is all based on emotion and instinct, which are the only things she carries in spades.

But of course somebody always has to spoil her fun. In this case it comes in the form of Freddie. He's all cool logic and he sees through her fiery whirlwind of emotions like a laser. And he's always questioning, questioning, questioning and she wants to scream in his face until his ear bleeds because he's trying to take away the only thing that allows her to breath. So she does because she can and eventually she figures out the more she distracts him with pain, the less focused and logical he is. The less he can see through her charades. So she tortures him and works him up into a ball of emotion comparable to her own.

It's just a bonus that it's so much fun.


Sam loves breaking other people.

She knows that it's wrong and twisted and immoral and blah blah blah. She likes the control it gives her and she likes how powerful it makes her feel. She loves how it lets her let out some of the pressure that's always just bubbling under her surface.

She'll take it anyway she can get it. Emotional, mental, physical, she wants to crush and destroy because it's the only way to really let her know that she has any sort of power. As she watches their faces twist into grimaces and expressions of horror and slight awe, she feels like she's finally somebody and it's the only time she thinks she's worth a damn.

She knows it's wrong, so fucking wrong. She knows that it's in every stupid psycho-babble book ever made and she hates herself for being such a damn cliché. But when she hears the bone crack or the tears fall, when she pushes somebody just far enough for them to completely lose it, she knows that she can control them, manipulate them. And yeah, that makes her feel so damn good.

She breaks other people to feel whole.


Yet, she tries really really hard to stop herself from destroying everything she loves. But sometimes it's really hard. Like when Carly is just being Carly and she just wants to rip her hair out one by one. Because Carly Shay is everything she only wishes she could be.

Carly is sweet, kind, giving, gentle and so so so weak. And it just makes it that much easier to crush her. To rip her heart into pieces of confetti and stomp all over them. And sometimes, she can't stop herself. Can't keep herself from the jealousy or the overwhelming urge to ruin anything that can hurt her. To exploit weaknesses. It's in her nature. It's what's kept her surviving for so long and she can't just turn her instincts off like a switch.

And it just happens to be one of those days. One of those days where the very sight of Carly reminds her of everything she wants but can't have and it makes her want to throw up. She wants to shrivel up into a ball and sob until she's empty but that's not really her style. And she tries to demolish her desire with Freddie which usually works but today it's just not cutting it, it's just making it worse. Because every time he scoffs and looks at Carly with that fucking adoration she wants to rip out her own eyeballs and then Carly's just for the hell of it. But she can't so she just waits for the perfect moment.

And it comes. They always come when you know somebody as well as she knows Carly. It's one of the reasons why she never thought that friends, real friends, were a good idea. Because no matter how hard you try, eventually your little secrets slip out and there's nothing you can do to get them back. And the other person can do as they please with them. It's like handing somebody the power to break her heart, and it's really not her style. But naturally Carly is the exception and she can snap Sam like a twig and that just makes her angrier. The rage is simmering in her veins when the perfect moment comes. The perfect princess sets it up so nicely for her.

"My dad hasn't called for a while. I miss him, you know? But he's probably just busy," Carly smiles tightly at the end and then bites her lip in that nervous way she does. And Sam just wants to scream that she has no idea. No idea what it means to miss your dad. But she can't, she won't. And she can't, won't, stop the train wreck this is about to become.

"Too busy to pick up the phone? Doubtful. I mean if he really loved you he'd call. I mean you're his daughter. I mean did you do something to piss him off? But whatever. He's probably just… busy," and she spits out the last word like it's doubtful and she watches as the wheels turn about in Carly's brain. And she looks a little confused and hurt. Like she can't understand why Sam is saying all these things and not comforting her. She wants to scream. She wants to cry and howl. How can she not get it? Carly has it all. Sam has nothing. It's about time she evened the playing field. But of course sweet little naïve Carly would never get it. Freddie however shoots her a sharp warning glance. She wants to laugh in his face, like he could ever stop her.

"I… no, we're fine. I mean I think we are. Do you really think that? That he's not busy? And he just doesn't want to talk to me?" Carly's biting her lip so hard that little droplets of blood stain her perfect white teeth and her big doe eyes fill with tears. Sam doesn't know if she wants to cry or push her until she really breaks. But she's never known how to stop so she keeps going. Despite the fact that Freddie looks ready to tackle her.

"All I know is if I really loved somebody, I'd make time. But don't worry Carls, you still have me," and she smiles genuinely because even if a part of her needs to break Carly, she still loves her. And it's fucked up and twisted but so is she so really it makes sense in the end. She doesn't know where the hurt ends and the love begins and she's too tired to figure it out.

Carly nods her head vigorously, "Yeah, I'll always have you guys. You're my best friends," she smiles tightly as she tries to keep the tears from leaking out, "I'll be right back, I uh, I need to use the bathroom," she stutters as the tears begin falling from her big doe eyes and she rushes out of the room.

Sam wants to throw up. And she really really hates herself because she can never leave well enough alone, she always has to push push push until something breaks. And the rage is gone and it's replaced with searing self-loathing.

"What the hell was that Sam?" Freddie suddenly shouts, drawing her to the fact that he's still there. She wants him gone. She doesn't want him to witness her weak, doesn't want him to know the only person who hates her more than him happens to be herself. And she hates him. Hates him for getting under her skin and into her head and she hates him for hating her for all the same reasons that she hates herself.

"Hell? Don't think Crazy would approve. Is big bad Fweddie trying to rebel?" she snickers and taunts and she hopes he takes the bait. She hopes he picks and unravels her flaws until she can't feel any of it anymore. She needs to be numb if she's going to survive herself.

"Look Sam, I know this is a hard day for you but Carly's your best friend. And you don't want to hurt her, not really," and he's whispering and his hand is gently gripping her arm and she's falling falling falling. She hates hates hates him for being able to read her like a fucking book and she rips her arm away and begs her eyes to keep the tears behind her eyelids.

"You don't know anything Benson. You're just a stupid little dork. When are you going to get it? We'd, your precious Carly, would never be your friend if you she didn't need you for freaking tech support," she sneers and she watches in triumph as his face falls and she breaks him all over again. But he takes another step towards her.

"You're not the only one with problems Sam. Especially not when it comes to fathers, clearly. I know he left today. I'm sorry Sam, I'm sorry," his voice is soft and cocoons her into a safe shell. She wants to snuggle in until she can finally breath again but she's afraid of being suffocated.

"Shut up Benson. You don't know shit. My dad loved me. Yours killed himself just to get away," she turns away from him as she mutters the last line. Because there's no going back. And she knows she may have just destroyed one of the only things she cared about.

"I don't know what to do for you anymore Sam. I don't know how to make you get it. We care about you. We want to save you. But you, you make it impossible. I just, I can't watch you do this anymore. I can't watch you hurt yourself just because you can," and she watches as he walks out the door and goes towards where ever Carly is, his future, his destination.

She doesn't burst into sobs, or pound her fists into the ground. She simply sinks into the bean bag and holds her breath. Her throat burns burns burns but it's nothing compared to the pounding in her head. And her stomach is trying to uproot itself and she's not numb. Because it all hurts hurts hurts. Because she can't help but do this to herself.

After all, all she wanted was somebody to stay.


Most of the time she feels empty.

It hurts worse than the sharp shooting anger then she gets because it's like this throbbing sort of ache that never really goes away. She wants it to go away so badly and honestly, she'll do anything and everything just to make it stop. She tries to fill it with food, so much food. The food is nice. It tastes so good and while she's shoving the salty flavored things into her mouth, she can forget that she's empty and this is just another attempt to fill her empty empty empty soul.

But then it settles in her stomach and it doesn't fill the right empty hole. She's still aching the only difference is she can feel her stomach expanding, all she feels is bloated and ugly and weak. She'll catch a glimpse of herself and her cheeks seem to pudge out and she hates herself. Hates the way the fat seems to glob onto her and then she'll see Carly and hate herself even more. Friend Friend Friend it taunts her and reminds her of all she'll ever be and she just wants to be as perfect and beautiful and thin as Carly Shay.

She soon enough finds herself in front of her porcelain friend. It's dirty and reckless and destructive and it's so very her and some days it feels like the only friend she really has. Sam never feels prettier than when she's got mascara trailing down her cheeks, as she brushes the puke from her lips. She knows it's a problem and she knows that it's wrong but everything in her life is wrong and this is the only one that really makes her feel good. The only thing that promises that it'll all be better. So she doesn't stop because she's never been a quitter, and besides why stop a good thing?

It's him that finds her and isn't it ironic because really this is all his fault. She's in Carly's bathroom after a show and she's crying and puking and she's a mess but she feels so unstoppable because she's finally in control of something. When he walks in all that slips out is, "Please no, please." As if begging would make it all go away, make all of the dirty little problems crawl back under a rug where they belong. If she hadn't been so preoccupied she would have laughed in his face. Instead she wipes the puke off her chin and crawls towards him. "Don't tell Carly, don't tell Carly," and for once it's not a selfish request. It'd break Carly to see her like this. He shuts the door behind him and suddenly he's wrapping her around him. She's in his lap and arms and all she can smell is him. He strokes her hair and she whimpers and begs herself not to cry because she hates crying in front of him more than anybody else.

"Shh, Sam, it's going to be okay, I promise. I'm going to make sure this is okay," he strokes her hair as she whimpers. Eventually Carly bangs on the door but he insists that you have the flu and he doesn't want her to catch it so just leave.

For the next month he drags her to doctors and shrinks and he always has a book on him about the terrors of bulimia, which is what he insists she is. At first she struggles and fights him every step of the way because, hey it's just the kind of girl she is. But after a while she wants to get better too and after that he's her rock. He's the only one that knows and she finds herself leaning on him more than she's ever thought herself capable of.

And a teeny tiny part of Sam Puckett thinks Freddie Benson just may be a little bit like a knight in shining armor.


She loves fighting in general but her absolute favorite is fighting with Freddie.

Maybe because it's the only time that he's not a spineless little Mama's-boy or maybe it's because it's the only time she really sees him lose his cool. And when he's fighting with her, his attention isn't anywhere but on her. It's nice to finally feel like the center of universe, if only for just a second, and for all the wrong reasons, but when has that ever made a difference to a girl like Sam? Even Carly can't break his concentration away from her, not when she winds him up enough. She likes how his voice finally raises and how she can see his blood boil under the surface. She likes how nobody else can make him so emotional and she feels powerful having that kind of control over him. And it's a whole new kind of adrenaline rush and a different level of recklessness. And okay, she just may be a little addicted to it all.

Because Sam Puckett can get under Freddie Benson's skin in ways Carly Shay couldn't even imagine.


She's not really surprised when she finds out that she is in fact, not a cute drunk.

She is a little surprised that she doesn't even attempt to hit the bottle until she's seventeen but then again that's really just the 'Carly Influence.' Seeing as she's always offered herself up to be sober cab and begs Sam to stay sober with her.

And when Carly finally does get drunk, she's absolutely adorable. Or at least that's what everybody else says. Sam thinks she's a little annoying. All she wants to do is hug her and tell her how she's her best friend. As if she didn't already know.

And when Sam finally decides to follow the footsteps of oh so many family members before her, she's not surprised that it doesn't turn out pretty. She, personally doesn't remember much. In fact all she remembers is tiny glimpses after the first few drinks. She remembers throwing a wreath, throwing a chair and throwing a punch. And she doesn't need to be told that she's even more violent drunk then sober, but many people feel the need to bring it up to her during the next week at school.

She also remembers launching herself onto familiar lips.

"I love you, I really do. I promise. You think I'm stupid right now, don't you? you think I'm so stupid because I'm drunk. I'm not stupid, I promise," and she's closer to hyperventilation then she's ever really been and he just sighs and shakes his head.

"I don't think you're stupid Sam. I don't," he doesn't attempt to touch her because every time anybody had throughout the night she'd screamed 'don't fucking touch me' before throwing them across the room. But now she's slowly scooting closer to him.

"You don't?" and her voice is breaking and she's breaking and she hates how weak she's become. Just like her mother. And she want to scream and shout and be angry again because anythings better then this weak little girl but she can't, not when he's looking at her like she really means something.

A smile slowly creeps onto his face and he shakes his head, "Of course not. You're my best friend. You're my Sam," and he smiles and kisses her forehead and she wants to smash him into little bits and pieces. Because of course she's his 'best friend' because she's not Carly and she'll never be the love of his life. But in her drunken haze it doesn't matter, she'll have him for this moment. She grabs his face and crushes her lips onto his. It's violent and raw and it hurts oh God I hurts and she likes it more then she's ever really liked anything. Because it's real and it's them. She finally tears herself away and he looks like he's about to die, just die. So she smiles and whispers.

"You're my best friend too, Freddie," then she turns around and throws up.

And the next morning she wakes up in a tub of her own vomit. She's freezing because her clothes are drenched. She briefly remembers Freddie begging her to drink more water as he tried to force her to drink it as she gurgled it back up. His dark hoodie is on top of her and it's the only thing keeping her warm. She stumbles out of the bathtub only to land on a soft body. Freddie looks up from his bed on the floor. "Feeling better?" he laughs as she groans loudly and then he drives her home to sleep off the hangover.

The next week, person after person seems to find it aggravatingly important to let her know how she was even more violent and crazier than usual. And how she'd only let Freddie near her and how he was such a fucking Saint taking care of her. They tell her how she'd go on rampages and how Freddie would calm her down and how he practically doted on her. And how he got so freaked out that he was thinking of driving her to the emergency room because he was so worried that she was dehydrated. And she just wants them to stop reminding her and they won't stop talking. So she finally decks one of them and everybody else seems to get the hint.

But it doesn't stop her from remembering.


Somewhere along the way, Sam failed at one of her many personal rules. Don't get attached. She should've known better. She never was very good at rules. And Sam always knew that the brunette was too close, could hurt her too badly but after a while she slowly began to accept it. But of course it just made it hurt that much worse when it all fell apart.

It was a regular day. A regular day with regular day things. She woke up, dragged herself out of bed and went to school. The sky was a pretty shade of gray and it drizzled just lightly enough to make her hair frizz but not enough to make any decent puddles for her to hop in. She made fun of Freddie. Bullied some kid into giving her lunch money. Carly scolded and lectured and she rolled her eyes and danced around the issues.

And it wasn't supposed to end the way it did. Sam had to go home to meet one of her mother's numerous boyfriends and Freddie was taking some Mommy and Me Pottery class. But her mother's boyfriend never showed and Sam had slipped off to the familiar Shay apartment. Spencer was out to who knows what and she quietly let herself in.

"Carly?" the sound echoed and it creeped her out and she just knew, just knew that something was wrong, "Carly?!" and she knows she's sound a little ridiculous. And it's not like her to get hysterical. But nobody is answering and she's running running up the stairs but she just knows she's not fast enough. The bathroom door is slightly open and light is peering out of it and she thinks she's going to be sick. It's too much like the movies and it's all too cliché for her and all she wants is her best friend to be okay, "Carly," she whispers and lightly taps the door open with her toe. And then she promptly turns around and throws up.

Because she's never dealt well with blood, and it's everywhere. Carly whimpers and she's thrown back to reality and she finds herself at the brunette's side in seconds. Blood is oozing out of cuts on Carly's wrists and she briefly thinks that it looks like the cherry popsicles they were once so obsessed with.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Sam whimpers over and over because she doesn't know what else to say. This has to be all her fault because if she was a better friend Oh God, perfect princess Carly Shay would never be in this mess. She bandages Carly's wounds with gauze as she waits for the ambulance to show up and rocks her back and forth gently. She's so pale pale pale and Sam doesn't know what she'll do if this is her last image, her last memory of Carly Shay.

The paramedics come and they peel her away from Carly. They get hold of Spencer, why didn't she remember to call him? And he shows up to bring her to visit Carly. They spend all night in the waiting room in the puke green chairs and she wants to scream. Waiting is hard enough, did they really have to make it into a smelly torture chamber?

She paces and Spencer cries and she hates herself for not stopping this. For not saving Carly. For not noticing. And Spencer keeps mumbling to her that it's not her fault but she's heard enough lies to recognize one. And she doesn't want to hear his fake words just so she can feel better. She likes to feel the overwhelming sense of doom and loss because it's the most familiar feeling in the world. It's like her ratty old safety blanket and no matter how much she wants to let go, she can't seem to.

When they finally let her into the room, Carly looks a lot tanner but needles stick into her arms and Sam wants to cry for her best friend. She knows how much Carly hates needles. Carly smiles tightly and she can feel herself start to crumble, "I'm so sorry Carls… I should've known. I'm so sorry," she finally blurts out and Carly promptly bursts into tears. Her choking sounds echo in the empty white room and Sam finds herself flinging herself onto Carly, "I'm so sorry. So sorry Carls." They hold each other until Carly is only hiccupping.

"Silly Sam. This is me. Not you Sam. Never you," her smile is stretched so tight that Sam wonders how her face doesn't crack into two. But she doesn't understand because this is Carly and she's perfect and the only person that could ever mess up the perfection that is Carly Shay would be the reckless train wreck that is Samantha Puckett so of course this is about her.

They stay in the same position on the bed. In some odd fashioned hug and it stays silent until Sam can't take it anymore. After all she never did do well in quiet. She'd found that quiet prompted too many secrets to slip, too many nightmares to occur. "How can I make you better?" She whispers and she feels like she's just a little girl watching her angry daddy hit her mommy all over again. She's so confused and lost and broken and she just wants somebody to cover her eyes until it all goes away.

"I have anxiety. Have for a while now. And well, they had me on pills. So this wouldn't happen. But I don't like them Sam. They make me so tired. And I feel so different. It's just… I know I'm better when I'm on them. I know that they're helping me. But the feelings. Those bad feelings. They're part of who I am. And I'm so scared Sam. I don't want to change. I don't want to turn into somebody I don't recognize anymore," Carly begins to cry again. Not loudly, but the silent, one tear sort of thing that Hollywood eats up.

"Want to make a deal Carls?" Sam watches as the tears slip off her best friends cheek and plop onto the ugly hospital gown.

"Is this going to be one of the kinds of deals that you make with Freddie? Because I don't think I can handle that. I don't know how he handles it. You two are so funny. Always trying to prove something to the other," Carly smiles and Sam can see that for the first time in a really long time, that's it's genuine.

"No. I don't think you could handle those either," she nudges Carly teasingly and Carly giggles in response, "No, my deal is just for you and me. A once in a lifetime kind of thing. How about you let go of your fear and I'll let go of my anger? I know it won't be easy. But we're Carly and Sam. We're like Superheros, we can do anything."

"I think I'd like that," Carly beams at her and Sam feels like she can finally breath again. Sam doesn't leave the hospital bed the whole week that Carly is there recuperating. They make fun of Spanish soap stars, Sam eats all the hospital food, and Carly giggles when Sam pulls prank on the hospital staff. Freddie visits and it feels almost like home to Carly when Sam and him start to argue.

Spencer flutters around nervously. The sterile, pristine environment is the exact opposite to everything he holds dear to his heart and Carly finds herself excited to go home back to everything she knows. She keeps taking small steps to rid herself of the anxiety and helps Sam with her anger issues. Sam is excited too. After all her and Carly made a deal and she never backs out of deals.

She's not going to start now.


Sometimes she thinks she'll run and never stop.

She thinks that she'll run run run until her feet bleed and she crumbles because it'll hurt too much to go on. She thinks that she'll end up somewhere exotic and she'll become a waitress or something equally as generic. She won't have anybody but she won't be able to let down anybody either, she doesn't think she can take another one of Carly's disappointed sighs or Freddie's frustrated grimaces.

When she gets bored with that town, she'll just move onto another and her life will just be an endless stream of adventures and moments. There won't be any big picture because there won't be enough details. She won't answer to anybody and she'll never get hurt and she'll never have to pretend that her smile is real. She won't be a slave to her role and she thinks maybe she'd be able to heal.

But she knows that she'll never do it. Not because she won't survive or because she can't just because honestly, she doesn't want to, not really. Because she knows that the 'healing' will really just make her numb. And she rather be angry then empty. Because she's seen what empty does to people and while they're not as destructive as angry ones, they're not really living either and she thinks that it's a waste of time.

Plus she sees Carly and Freddie and Spencer and she realizes she just may have a reason to stay.


She really didn't want to fall in love with him.

She was Sam and he was Freddie and they weren't written in the stars or star-crossed lovers or anything epic. But then again she never was a big believer in clichés so if she's being perfectly honest, she doesn't give a damn that they aren't what a couple is supposed to be like. She does, however, give a damn that yeah, he's in love with her best friend.

And loving Freddie isn't rational or logical but neither is she. Their relationship is bitter and vengeful but it's one of the only honest things she has. And he's too logical and she's too reckless. But she makes him live and he makes her think and yeah maybe it's not quite as fucked up as she's wanted so desperately to believe. Because she can't like him, it's wrong and she's afraid that he'll reject her and she just doesn't know how she'll survive that. So she shoves the feelings down down down and wishes that she could just forget about them. But like all her problems, it bubbles right under the surface, pushing itself closer and closer out. She knows one day she'll lose it and he'll know and she'll lose one of the only things she has worth holding onto. It happens when they're arguing, and really she should've known.

Neither of them quite know what they're arguing about our why they're continuing arguing but neither of them are about to stop. But they're starting to get dangerous.

"You're such a friggen nerd. If it weren't for me and Carly your ass would be kicked every day," she hisses as she folds her arms over her chest. He glares down at her and takes a step forward, causing her to take one back and her back presses against the cool metal lockers. The hall is deserted because everybody else has long gone home. She'd stayed after for detention and he'd had some AV things he'd needed to do. But now it's just them and yeah they may make this room available in Clue.

"Yeah well if weren't for me and Carly you'd probably be in jail. You're a delinquent, just like Mommy always knew you would be," he mocks and she wants to shrivel inside of herself and never come out, but that's not the kind of girl she is. When she's pushed she pushes back ten times harder.

"Unlike you, my mommy doesn't predict or plan out my future for me. Is your mommy afraid if she leaves you to your own devices you'll be just like daddy and take the easy way out?" she watches as his fists clench and his eyes tighten and she thinks she may have gone too far. But she's nothing if not thorough so she hisses, "you should just get it over with Benson. Because in a couple years you'll just be a lonely nerd. Nobody will ever love you Freddie." For a moment nothing is said and she wants to take it all back but she can't so instead she smirks victoriously. Then his fist collides with the metal right on the left of her head and she jumps.

"Goddamnit Sam," he mutters and tears squeeze through his eyelids. And she hates hates hates herself. She can't breathe because she's never pushed him this far before. And she has to escape. She needs to escape his broken eyes and her broken soul because she always knew her reckless ways would be the death of her. So she slips underneath his arm and she runs runs runs until she's ready to collapse.

She finds herself in front of their park and she doesn't know whether to laugh at the irony or cry just because everything's so fucked up, because she's so fucked up. She stumbles her way to the swings and her tears blur her vision and she practically falls into one.

She pumps her legs and she wants to go high high high enough until she can just fly away from here, from him. But she'll never be able to leave herself and since she can't help but destroy everything she loves she doesn't think it matters how far she flies. And she's so concentrated on flying away that she doesn't even realize he's coming until he's already there, steadying her swing to stop her from flying away.

She can't meet his eyes so when he grabs onto the chains and towers over her, she looks down instead. "Why Sam? I need to know. Why do you hurt me? I don't get it. What are you so afraid of. Because I know you Sam. And I know you're hurting me because you're scared but of what Sam? Of me? Of what," and he's looking down at her and she can't meet his eyes so she just shrugs, "Fuck Sam! Stop with your bullshit! Just tell me!" he shakes the swing and it surprises her.

"I love you," she whispers because she can't pretend. Not with him. Not anymore. His eyes soften and he kneels on the gravely playground bottom and envelopes her into his strong arms.

"I love you too Sam, you're my best friend," and he whispers it like it's something special and she wants to rip his hair out and force feed it to him. And honestly she doesn't think that, that would hurt nearly as bad as he just hurt her. So she retches his arms away from her and pushes him back.

"No you nub!" she hisses, "I'm fucking in love with you! I'm in love with you! And I can't make it stop!" she shouts so angrily, so venomously that at first he doesn't even seem to register her words. But then he does. And he doesn't say anything. He just walks behind her and starts pushing her.

Normally she'd make him answer her. Normally she wouldn't have just admitted her deepest darkest secret. And she's a little afraid of the inevitable rejection so she lets herself pretend a little longer and just enjoys the feelings of his strong hands pushing her higher, higher, higher.

The sun starts to go down and the sky is filled in brilliant reds and oranges and hot pinks. Finally he talks and his voice is raspy and low and it sends a chill right up her spine, "Do you remember when we were little and you used to want to touch the sky?"

"Yeah," she whispers meekly because she's not quite sure where this is going. She's not sure if she wants to live in her pretty pretend for longer or if maybe it'd be better if he just ripped it off like a band aid and she could start hating herself now.

"I never got it, you know? I never understood why you wanted to touch the sky. I think it's because I didn't need to. You don't either. You don't need to touch the sky Sam," and she's confused and she doesn't get what he's saying. Then he stops her swing and pulls her up to him, "Don't ever stop loving me Sam, it'd break my heart." Then he's leaning down and kissing her. Really kissing her. And she feels just like she feels whenever she's being really reckless. She feels alive and on fire. But with his arms wrapped around her she also feels safer than she ever really was.

His kisses are even better than she remembers.


Samantha Puckett is reckless.

But she's also passionate and fiery and alive. And when she launches herself into his arms or her face flushes from anger or she just starts crazily dancing because she can. Or when she smiles or laughs or even cries, he doesn't really mind her recklessness at all. Because it's just a part of Sam. It's what makes her raw and real and alive.

Freddie Benson wouldn't have her any other way.