Hey! Get ready for an insanely long author's note.

First, sorry about the long wait, but I finally found time. To write one chapter. And I wasted it starting a new story. And not even a funny one :) I don't know about you guys, but I was getting INSANELY bored with iMight Meet You Halfway. If I ever have the motivation, I'll finish it, but it won't be spectacular by any means. This story is going to be dark, depressing, and a whole lot of fun for me to write, lol. I know the idea's been used a lot, but I wanted to put my own spin on it. Anyways, as you all know, I've been super busy, and that hasn't changed. PLEASE forgive me if my review replies are a little (or a lot) late, but I will get back to all of you. And I will update every week, at most.

In other news, watch out for a one-shot sequel to iDo, somewhere along the lines of iWish I Was Carly's Kid. It won't be directly related to iDo, but it is a future fic, so I thought I'd tie them together. And any suggestions on Freddie and Sam's daughter's name is welcome! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own iCary. Now on to the story...excuse the language, I just wanted it to seem semi-realistic...hope it creeps you out, that was the intention.


"Let's wrap up the show, I'm sure the iCarly fans don't want to see your grandma's foot fungus again," said Carly, who coincidentially also did not want to see Sam's grandmother's foot fungus again.

"You sure? How about you watch us feed it to Freddie?" Sam asked the camera.

"Haha..." Freddie paused, her suggestion finally hitting him. "You lunatic. No way am I--"

"And that's it for today! Bye! See you! Sam, don't kill Freddie--"

The iCarly viewers heard a rather girlish scream come from the tech producer, but then the camera turned off. What a fantastic ending.


"Honestly, Freddie, why do you even put up with Sam? Don't you have a girlfriend? You don't need to come over here to impress me anymore."

"I don't. I come over here to videotape iCarly. She's just gotten more vicious--now she gets into my house to beat me up!"

Carly took the ice pack back from him and ushered him home. Sam had left long ago, bored of all the fussing over Freddie. Or so she said. Carly would never admit it out loud, but a slight inkling of a feeling had started to accost her. Sam had started getting worse the minute Wendy had asked Freddie on their first date. And by the fourth, she'd become a monster to the poor boy. Who could blame her for reaching the conclusion she had?

The brunette sighed. She was smart enough to know Freddie and Wendy vs. Freddie and Sam wasn't even worth thinking about. At least Freddie would be able to come out of a date with Wendy unharmed. There was nothing more to do in these situations but wolf down a couple scoops of chocolate ice cream and watch a nice, dramatic soap opera that thankfully did not mirror her own life.

Her cell phone rang, interrupting her relaxation technique. "Hello?"

"Carly..." It was Sam on the other end, there was no mistaking it, but her voice was raspy and weak. "Carly, help..."

"Sam? Sam, where are you? Answer me! Sam...!"


One hour earlier...

It was gloomy outside. Heavy clouds threatened to spill all over Seattle, but this never deterred Sam from walking home. Her mom was mentally incapable of driving, and Sam didn't feel the need to backseat-drive-for-her-life lately. There was a lot that Sam didn't see the point in doing anymore. Wendy sucked the fun out of everything.

Stop thinking about it.

But she couldn't. The stupid nub wasn't fun to be around unless he was crying, and now he never got to that point because he'd always be at Wendy's. And Wendy was always protecting him in school. And Wendy would always conveniently interrupt with phone calls when Sam got around to picking on him. What kind of a name was Wendy anyways? Wendy's was a fast food restaurant, whether they wanted to admit it or not. And that's all Wendy was. A very fast relationship. Freddie's first, but a fast one all the same. It had to be.

Sam punched the nearest brick wall in frustration. She loved this section of her walk home. It was down a narrow alley between two shops, in the worst part of town--the part she lived in. Usually it boosted her confidence; yes, girls got raped all the time in dark, scary places, but not her. Never her. She was stronger than any middle-aged psycho that decided to pop up. She was the monster that lurked in this alley. And she liked that reputation.

If it ever shattered, she wouldn't know what to do.

"Something wrong?" asked a gravelly voice. Hobos. They were in here all the time. Sam shook her hand a little; it had started to throb. Maybe brick wasn't the best punching bag--or at least, not as good of a punching bag as Freddie was.

"Who're you?" she replied rudely.

The guy's clothes were ragged, his beard unshaven. He sat against the wall of one of the shops, eyeing her with interest. "A lonely man."

"Get a job, you pervert. We don't need filth like you clogging up our streets."

He didn't reply, but stood up. Sam kept right on walking. He wasn't worth her time. That was, until he grabbed her wrist.

She tugged herself out of his grasp. "Watch it, bozo, or I'll knock you out."

"Don't talk to me like that."

"I'll talk to you how I want. Now get lost."

He grabbed her arm again and pinned her to the wall. His breath smelled horrible. Scratch that, he smelled horrible. But so did Sam's cat, so it didn't bother her. What did, though, was the fact that he evidently did not value his own life.

"Get. Off. Of. Me." She kicked him right where it hurt, but...missed? No, he'd moved. Lucky for him. Sam struggled, and yet, he held her down. This was new, but no matter, she had a lot more to give.

"Apologize."

Was he kidding? She never even said sorry to her friends, forget some homeless idiot off the streets. Somehow, she freed her hand from his iron grip and punched him in the chest.

Her fist practically bounced off.

Not that it didn't hurt, she was sure he winced. But the guy had pecs, and her hand throbbed even more now. Where did a hobo get the money to work out at a gym?

"Let go!" she growled, various limbs of hers flailing. Some made contact, most didn't. He just held her there, trying to force her to apologize, muttering crazily about how he'd be great one day and she'd regret insulting him. "I don't care about your career plans, you numbskull, will you just let go of me? I've got a life to get to, unlike you!"

Maybe enraging him hadn't been the best way to go. The next thing Sam new, she was on her back and her head was exploding in pain. He'd hit her, and not lightly, either. He was coming down at her, and elbowed her in the stomach. Sam nearly puked, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of getting to her. She flipped him over, which he obviously wasn't expecting, and tried her uppercut on him. He howled and swiped at her, but she jumped up and out of his way.

Any normal girl would've run. Sam didn't even consider the option.

"Take this, you good-for-nothing lump!"

More jabs, more kicks, more tackles. This guy needed to learn a lesson. She was tiring, but he didn't look as bruised as he should have. Sam should've seen that. She should've taken it as a warning. But she didn't.

All of a sudden, she was on her back again. He'd thrown her down, and raised his leg slowly.

Shit. She didn't even have time to react.

His foot smashed into her ribs, definitely breaking at least one. Sam gasped in pain, but he did it again. And again. "How do you like this now, bitch? You think you're better than me? You're nothing! Nothing! To anyone! Stop screaming, no one's going to help you!" He laughed crazily as one of her broken ribs punctured through her skin. There was blood everywhere, pooling around her...

"Stop!" she croaked. It was to no avail. He lifted her roughly and pinned her against the wall, his hands closing around her throat.

Up until now, she'd never once doubted herself. Up until now, it had always been It's fine. I'll get out of this. There isn't a person in the world that can beat me.

Then a new thought began to penetrate. Oh my god. He's stronger than I am.

"That's right," he hissed coldly, as if reading her mind. "There's a reason mommy tells you never to walk by yourself at night...you didn't listen to her, did you? Now you die."

The last word echoed in her mind. That was so stupid. She was walking home. This hadn't even happened to her. This was some made up garbage, she wasn't actually suffocating.

Die...

No. I can't. I'm Sam. I'm immortal. I can't...

Yes, you can. You lost. You're done for.

She couldn't breathe. He was cutting off all her air supply, and she couldn't do a thing about it. Struggling would kill her. She could only wait as blackness crept over her line of sight--the last thing she would ever see would be his beady, shiny, deadly eyes...

"From over here!" yelled a muffled voice. "I heard someone scream--where'd she go?" Sam didn't register what was happening, but the mental case choking her did. Quickly, her airpipe was reopened. The guy dropped her and disappeared, but the pain was still there. Oxygen still evaded her. Every breath was agony.

Call nine-one-one. Call nine-one-one. Somehow that was all she could think. But her body wouldn't listen. Her cell phone was in her hand, but she couldn't press the buttons. Redial had to be good enough.

"Hello?"

"Carly...Carly, help..." And Sam blacked out.

By the time her saviors found her, she was on the verge of death.


Review please! Oh, and just so you know, this is not the end of the story. This is just the beginning (muahahaha). So yeah. Stay tuned.