This is just a little piece that I've been working on. It's based off of the song "Be There" by Howie Day, but that song was mainly just the inspiration.(: If you haven't heard it I highly suggest you YouTube it or something. It's a great song by a great artist!

Oh, WARNING: Slight language.

Enjoy!

"Be There"

FanFic by: KeyLimePie14

"Sam?" I questioned as I poked my head into the bedroom down the hall from mine. The one that Sam had claimed her own a few weeks prior when she had been evicted from her dorm. "Hey, are you…" I trailed off; my heartbeat slowed for a moment as I saw that her bed was made. She was nowhere in sight. I glanced over at her bedside clock, and rubbed my eyes to make sure they weren't playing tricks on me. They weren't. The clock still read, in bright orange, five-thirty in the morning. I sighed and backed out of the room, as I pulled the door shut with a 'click' behind me.

Apparently she was still upset about our argument the night before and had just bolted. In perfect Sam fashion, of course. The argument wasn't even that big of a deal, well, in my opinion it wasn't. As if I really cared that she didn't do her share around the apartment. When, in all the time that I'd known her, had she ever done anything she was asked? Never, that's when. I was used to it. She must have been really dense not to see the real reason the argument started… I shook my head. Whatever.

I trudged down the hall to the kitchen; I needed some coffee. I yawned and reached into the cabinet for my favorite coffee cup. I pulled it out and picked up the coffee pot. I poured it to the brim of the cup and took it in both hands, as I savored the warmth the liquid inside gave off through the ceramic of the cup. I picked up the newspaper and began silently reading over the headlines.

My eyes traveled off to the side, and I noticed half a sheet of paper, jaggedly ripped at the bottom with a hastily scribbled note on it. I abandoned the newspaper and cup of coffee for this piece of notebook paper. I picked it up and studied Sam's almost illegible scribbles intently.

"Yo, Frednub,

I know what's coming and I honestly don't want to be around to hear it.

You might find me at Carly's place. If you're lucky.

Late,

Sam.

P.S. You might not WANT to find me…

I couldn't decide whether to smirk or sigh. Either way, I knew that I had to go to Carly's. There was no way it could be avoided. Sam lived here and it wasn't as if Carly had the room to take in the boisterous blonde, that's why Sam had come to me in the first place. I sighed and leaned back against the counter top. I finished off my coffee and walked over to place my cup into the sink.

The only two dishes lying in the sink, broken and in a thousand pieces were our dinner plates from last night. The ones Sam had thrown against the wall above the sink in a moment of blinding rage. They had shattered and splintered against the steel coating with a vengeance. The sound still rang in my ears along with Sam's pained and angered voice. I simply shook my head and turned down the hallway to get dressed.

**

"Sam!" I shouted through the door that had just been slammed in my face. I rubbed my nose and pounded on the door again. I wasn't leaving until she was in the car beside me headed towards home. Even if I wasn't too keen on that idea I had to; Carly had already called me three times telling me to get over to her apartment, as Carly had to leave to get to class soon and didn't have time to deal with a rampant hung-over friend. So who got the short end of the stick on that one? Me, of course.

Carly always acted shocked that Sam was still in a fit of rage over something that had happened the night previous. Then again, she acted shocked each and every time Sam got like this. 'This' being the aftermath of a night of drinking, i.e. the infamous Samantha Puckett hangover state.

I think Carly was still in denial that her best friend had turned into quite the partier once she hit college. I wasn't shocked nor had I ever doubted that would happen. Sam had always been the risk taker, the one who searched for a thrill anyway she could get it. I hadn't been surprised that Sam became the 'social drinker' at parties, this meaning that she turned any dull party into a smash hit. No, I hadn't been surprised, just…disappointed. I hadn't realized the extent of Sam's partying. That is, until she lived with me and I was the one who had to constantly clean up after her. Sam wasn't the easiest person to take care of either.

Finally, Carly opened the door, as she glanced over her shoulder at Sam. "Come in Freddie." She greeted; she still hadn't taken her eyes off of Sam, who was in the kitchen. I stepped into Carly's dorm room and stifled a sigh. "Sam, please stop that." Carly tried once more to get her friend to comply with her wishes. Unfortunately, this was Samantha Puckett she tried to persuade not some pushover.

"Carly, I told you already…" Sam turned around and stopped mid-sentence. She narrowed her eyes and put a hand on her hip. "What are you stilldoing here? Didn't I make it pretty clear I didn't want to see you?" I put my hands out in front of me and stepped closer to her.

"Sam? What's wrong? …Can't you just come home? Carly needs to leave, so you need to come with me. We'll go somewhere and talk, okay?" Sam scoffed, her glare turned from steely to ice cold, a look that could make anybody wither on the spot. Anybody but me, I had enough practice over the years and had built up an immunity to all of her tactics.

"Fredward," She hissed, the words laced with malice and deep seated annoyance, "I am not two years old, so I really think I can make it home by myself if and when I want to go home. I don't need you to escort me out of here. I don't even want you here, so I highly suggest you leave." Sam was a very confusing girl. She left a note that spelled out where she was; she hinted that she wanted me to come and find her, right? Now she told me to leave? I shook my head.

"You make no sense to me." I spoke softly, the words not spoken to be heard by, but aimed toward, the blonde girl that stood with a defensive aura in front of me. The same girl who I'd known the majority of my life, the one who, I've seen happy, sad, angry (oh, can't forget the angry), embarrassed, drunk, high (just that one time); I've seen her at her best and at her worst. And yet, despite all of our shared history, she still loved to hate me.

"Oh, really? What's so confusing about get out?!" She stalked over to where I stood and with one good punch to the gut she left me crumpled on the ground. "Get it now, Fredward?" I groaned and nodded up at her. Well, I was immune to most of her tactics, the physical beatings being one I was still susceptible to. She turned away and went back to digging through Carly's fridge.

"Are you alright?" I looked up to see Carly. She stood above me with a concerned look on her face. I grunted and pulled myself off the ground.

"Just…peachy." I replied. I glared at Sam and shook my head. Carly began to talk a mile a minute, but I phased out, not listening to her.

**

"Yo, Fredwadiooo!" A drunken Sam fumbled through the front door. She giggled and hiccupped the entire way to the dining room table. She met my glare, but brushed it off with a wave of her hand."What's your deal, dude?" She hiccupped again as she fell down into the wooden chair across from me.

"Where have you been?" I asked, unscathed by her humorous state. Even drunk, Sam was still pretty aware of her surroundings. I watched as she glanced around the dimly lit room. Her eyes may have been glazed over from tequila, or whatever else she had consumed earlier, but I saw a flash of something else in her eyes as they fell on the table. The table was dressed with a white tablecloth, two candles sat on top of that; their flames flickered against her face, casting a shadow on her eyes. Two plates, my mother's best china, sat in front of each chair, food piled high.

"…I was at a party." She paused, as she looked from my face to the table and back. "What's this?" Her eyebrow quirked up. I sighed and shook my head. She was smashed and there was no reasoning with a smashed Samantha Puckett. "Oh shit." She muttered. I glanced up at her and saw her face was deathly pale. I jumped out of my seat, as I assumed the effects of the alcohol were turning against her body.

"Are you sick?" I latched onto her elbow and pulled her up. I started to lead her to the bathroom when she stopped me. She ran her hand along my chest and stared at me. I waited patiently for her to speak.

"Tonight was the night, wasn't it?" She knew. She remembered that it had been a big night. The night that we had talked about for so long, the night I had planned to ask her to be my girlfriend. Officially. I simply nodded and pushed her arm away from me, as I suddenly felt disgusted with myself for even attempting to try.

"Yeah, it was." I whispered, my eyes dulled and I turned away from her, back to the kitchen to clean up the dishes that hadn't even been used. I heard her heavy, clumsy footsteps behind me and I gritted my teeth at her determination. I was definitely not in the mood to her hear drunken rambles, that was for sure. She followed my lead and picked up the small stack of unused plates off the table, her eyes staring at my face the entire time.

"Fre—" She started, as she reached out to touch my arm. I shrugged her off, and snapped.

"Just go, Sam. Okay?" I exhaled exasperatedly and ran a hand through my hair. She grabbed my elbow, this time with much more fervor than before.

"Talk to me." She demanded. She may have been drunk, but that didn't mean she lost any of that good ole Sam charm.

"Later." I answered. I didn't look up at her. "I can't talk to you right now." She reached out and touched me again.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I…forgot." That was it. I couldn't hold back the words that needed to be said.

"You mean, just like you forgot to do your English essay last night and I ended up doing it for you? Or how you forgot to do the grocery shopping because it was your week? Was it like that, Sam? Am I just another burden to add to your list of things to 'forget' about, just because that's what is most convenient for you?" I whirled around to face her. I stared into her eyes; I, for some reason, needed to see any form of emotion flicker through them. It became a dull ache in my already heaving chest; the need for that emotion ate at me. That one millisecond of emotion before she shoved it down, never to be seen again. She wouldn't let me willingly know if my words have sliced her or not. That wasn't Sam.

The flicker I had been so anxiously waiting on came: in the form of anger. Her face reddened, eyes clouding over. The brief calm before the storm, when everything was silent save for our heavy, rhythmic breaths. There was no way to brace myself for the storm; Sam was unpredictable.

"It was an honest mistake." Her voice was eerily calm. That had to be scarier than her fiercest yell. "If I had remembered don't you think I would have fucking been here?! I want this as much—if not more—than you do." The only sign that gave way to her anger was her eyes. Anger was virtually the only emotion she ever allowed to rest in her eyes for longer than a brief moment.

I shook my head. "You cannot want this more than me." I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "You just can't." I bellowed, making Sam jump just a little. Hell, I even surprised myself.

"How in the hell can you possibly know that Freddie? How?" The anger in her eyes burned into mine. In any other circumstance the burning would have been too much and I would have cast my gaze away. Tonight however, there was no part of me that burned.

"You would have remembered. I know you. You fucking remember the times of television shows or the time of dinner reservations. You sure as hell wouldn't miss those for the world! When it comes to our relationship…I feel like I'm the only one that even gives a damn!" In a blind fury of rage I reached over and picked up a drinking glass, slamming it against the wall above the sink. The pieces splintered into a thousand bits and landed into the sink in a melody of 'tink's.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what I remember and what I don't? Huh, Fredward?! What if I had remembered tonight, we 'officially'," She used air quotes, mockingly, "got together and then something happened? What then? I can handle this casual thing, Benson, but you're talking serious relationship. Do you even know how much that fucking scares me?! Do you?!" With that she threw the plates she held in her hand the same direction I'd just thrown the glass. The plates hit the wall and broke into pieces, landing in the sink to accompany the splinters from the glass.

She stood in front of me, her whole body shaking in rage, hands clenched at her sides. She stared into my eyes for a moment before her head dropped, blonde tresses falling into her face, effectively shielding any and all emotions that were crossing her face from me.

My face softened and I stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm. "Sam…I'm…" I touched her elbow, trying to coax her into looking at me. She only shrugged away.

"Don't fucking touch me." She shook her head and turned, slowly making her way down the hallway and entering her own bedroom. Not mine; Not the one she usually slept in.

**

"Freddie?" Carly touched my cheek, her fingertips grazing my skin, her eyes peering into mine softly. "Maybe you should just go home. Sam…will come when she's ready." I broke out of my reverie and looked back at her.

"What about class?" I found myself questioning. She shrugged.

"I can skip it today. My friends come first." I could tell she had just made that decision on the spot. And by the way her smile curved, looking forced, I could tell she didn't mean it. I also knew that she would stay home from class if Sam didn't leave. I knew she didn't trust Sam (especially in this state) to keep her apartment clean. Carly didn't exactly have the time to study for all of her advanced classes, let alone clean up after a hung-over friend.

"Go to class." I spoke softly, sneaking a glance at Sam. "I'll get her out of here, alright?" Carly looked hesitant for a moment. "With as little damage as possible." I assured her with a nod. She looked back over her shoulder at Sam, who was now devouring some kind of food in a Tupperware container and then back at me, smiling for real this time.

"Okay. But Freddie?" She leaned into me and whispered, "Whatever it is you two got into a fight about…be…" She paused and licked her lips, carefully mulling over her next words, "careful with what you say to her. She didn't tell me anything, but she seems really, really upset about whatever it was…" She shrugged then. "It may just be the hangover talking, but there's something different about this time." I stared back at her blankly, processing the fact that I could have actually hurt Sam Puckett. "I can just feel it." She finished, and then rocked back on her feet, moving away from me. She looked at me for a moment and then picked her coat off of the couch, putting it on. I didn't move a muscle. She furrowed her eyebrows together in slight concern before she put her hand on my shoulder, "…She'll be okay Freddie. Just… remember, this is Sam. She's not going to tell you she's hurting, even if she is." She took a deep breath and then offered me a gentle smile, "But you'll be okay." I nodded faintly, the corners of my mouth moving upwards in an attempt to return the smile, but it didn't work too well. It felt like a grimace.

"Okay, thank you Carly." I answered, my voice cracking just a bit. Carly nodded once more and then picked up her stack of books, heading for the door. She paused and told Sam a goodbye and then she was gone.

"Well, it's just us…" I started, causing Sam to look up from her bowl to glare at me.

"Oh really?" She got up and strode across the living room. "I was actually just leaving…" She had to walk past me to get to the door. I reached out my arm and caught her by the waist as she tried to breeze past me. Her head whipped towards me, the glare intensified. "I swear to God, if you want to keep that arm I suggest you move it." I stared into her eyes again, not wanting to miss a clue to her next move.

"No." I stated confidently, tightening my grip on her and spinning her so she was standing in front of me. She writhed and squirmed to get out of my grip, but she knew I was stronger than her now. It was only human nature. Her glare was still potent enough to bring a grown man to his knees though, so she didn't really need strength all that much.

"Fredward, I'm warning you." She seethed, her eyes barely visible now. "What is your problem? Do you really want to die that badly? Because I swear to God, you don't have to keep wishing…I can make your dreams come true." Her words contained so much bite I almost winced. Almost, because I was determined on fixing whatever I had messed up so badly.

"Sam," I exhaled a breath I didn't even realize I had been holding, I opened my mouth to say more, to say anything at all but she cut me off.

"I really don't need to hear all your excuses, okay? I'm fine." I really wanted to believe her, I really did, but what Carly said kept bouncing around in my head. She wasn't fine.

"Sam," I licked my lips, "Be my girlfriend?" She blinked hard and sighed. Her head bowed down a little, causing me a tad of concern. "Sam?" I was beginning to regret blurting out that question. I knew now was not the time, but...

"I can't, Freddie." She bit her lip, staring up at me with what she thought of as a remorseful look on her face. Though it appeared more like she was in pain. "And you know why." She whispered, and then she effectively ducked out of my slackened arms and stepped away from me.

"Sam...last night," I paused, thinking over the right words to say to make this right, "I'm sorry for it. I was just...upset that you didn't show up when I had specifically told you I had something special planned. I honestly didn't plan on blowing up at you, or, or," I smiled apologetically at her, "Saying all of those things to you. They," I shook my head, "May have been true...but that gives me no right to shout at you." I looked back up at her, gauging her reaction. She stood there, blank faced. "I'm sorry?" I really meant the words, but because of my uneasiness at the lack of her expression it came out as a question. My face was already red, and there was no way I was going to keep babbling. I clamped my mouth shut and looked at her expectantly, my eyes pleading with hers.

"Freddie, I want to be with you. You know I do. But how do I know that you won't leave me," Her voice got softer then, "Like everyone else always does?" She looked back up at me, and then shook her head, "That sounded pathetic. Dammit!" She ran a hand through her hair, frustrated, "I'm such a fuck-up." I stepped toward her then, reaching my hand out to pull her against me, but she shied away, prancing back in forth in front of me. "Damn you, Freddie." She stopped pacing and looked at me. "You made me feel like shit last night, you know? And then you ask me to be your girlfriend the next morning?! Jesus, Freddie. I may be stronger than most, but even I just can't forget that. ...I think we need to take a break." Her voice wavered a little, her eyes holding steady with mine.

A break? That was unexpected, for sure. My mouth dropped open, my eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "That's a little overdramatic, don't you think? I mean, really. Sam, come on." I was practically begging at this moment, but I didn't care. This was not the way this conversation was supposed to go.

"No, it's not overly dramatic, Fredward! You don't even understand!" She sighed exasperatedly and clenched her fist at her side.

"Maybe I don't understand because you don't ever fucking talk to me! Ever think of that, Sam?" She rolled her eyes and huffed.

"You talk too damn much." She fired back, her hand coming to rest on her hip. My jaw clenched and unclenched and I shook my head.

"How in the hell did we ever even get into this relationship?!" I ran a hand through my already mussed up hair, "All we ever do is fight and have make-up sex. Is that really a lasting relationship to you, Sam?" Sam only smirked. Boy, did I know what was running through her head at the moment. I stamped my foot on the ground, hoping to catch her attention, "SAM!" She shook her head slightly and looked at me.

"What?" I stifled a groan.

"I think we need to re-evaluate our relationship." I stated matter-of-factly. Sam rolled her eyes and smirked at me, stepping closer. "And then maybe attend some counseling, because God knows we've both got our share of problems and those problems then appear in the relationship, making it hard for us to grow..." She stepped even closer, but I kept going, "And you know? Maybe it wouldn't hurt if every once in a while you actually told me how you felt about something instead of just yelling at me..." She pressed herself against me then, causing me to stop talking and look down at her. Her index finger found it's way to my lips, pressing against them as she shushed me.

"You talk way too much." She smirked and moved her face closer to me. "By the way, I'll be your girlfriend if you promise we can still fight just to have the amazing make-up sex." She whispered, her breath tickling my chin.

"We don't have to fight to have the sex, you know." I smirked back. She nodded, and chuckled, pecking me on the lips.

"I know." She shrugged a little bit. "But the fighting makes it fun." I rolled my eyes at her and wrapped my arms around her waist, kissing her full on the lips. After a few moments I pulled away.

"I'm signing us up for couple's counseling." I promised, only to have her roll her eyes once more and grab the front of my shirt, pulling me back in for another kiss.

You're a cool breeze and the setting sun;

New Years, the 4th, wrapped into one.

You make me want to be someone that you could look up to.

Good? Bad? Average? Was the ending rushed? Am I asking too many questions? Am I distracting you from reviewing this? O_O Oh noes! You better stop reading this ramble and REVIEW!(: lol.