iBreak Hearts

Summary: Carly has a much needed talk with her two best friends in order to end the string of heartbreaks they've been causing. Seddie.

Disclaimer: iCarly is not and would never be mine. My, what a depressing thought.


"So when is Sam getting here?" I asked Freddie as we entered the studio. I led the way towards the video equipment and stopped in front of the table.

"She said that she'll just be a little late," he replied as he got behind the table to turn the computer on. "Something about having to talk to Dave." I looked up in alarm at that statement.

"Not Dave, too?" I asked a bit too loudly. Freddie shrugged as he logged onto the iCarly website. "This is the third guy this year…and it's only February!"

"It's her life, Carly," he said distractedly as he replied to a comment posted by a viewer. I sighed in defeat.

"Well, at least things are going well with you and Cindy," I said approvingly. However, I saw him stiffen for a second. "Don't tell me you're breaking up with her, too! She's the second one this year for you." Freddie gave me a pleading look—probably pleading me to just drop it. Of course, I didn't. "Why Freddie?"

"It just wasn't working out."

"Let me guess: Another ultimatum?"

"No," Freddie said nonchalantly and returned to his typing. "Too many questions and accusations."

"Well," I began, "Maybe she had a right to be all 'questiony' and 'accusationy.'" He scowled, not looking up at the computer screen.

"Not this again," I heard him mumble. It was my turn to scowl at him.

"I'm just saying. You don't see what others do, and—

"Hey, people!" Sam greeted as she burst into the studio, a large, thick slice of ham in her hand. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Freddie said looking up at her. "We haven't started rehearsals."

"Okay," Sam said while rubbing her hands together. Where did the ham go? She couldn't have possibly eaten it that fast. Oh, who am I kidding? This was Sam. "Let's do Break Dancing at Random Places next episode. We haven't done that one in a while." Yes, Sam, Freddie, and I could break dance, though those two were better at it than me. We actually took some lessons three years ago when we were fifteen after getting obsessed with MTv's America's Best Dance Crew.

"Great idea!" Freddie agreed with a huge smile. "Then we could follow it up with—

"Hang on!" I interrupted, and I turned to Freddie. "I'm not done with you."

"So close," I heard him mutter.

"You do know I could hear you, right?" I asked with a glare.

"Yeah, you're still kind of loud," Sam added. "I heard you, too. So what's this about?" She was asking me, but it was Freddie who answered her.

"She's going on about the same thing," he said exasperatedly. Sam's eyes widened, and she looked quite angry.

"You told her!" she accused.

"It wasn't my fault," Freddie defended. "She figured it out when I said you were just going to talk with Dave."

"But she doesn't start talking about this unless you've done the same thing, too." She gasped in realization. "You're breaking things off with Cindy? Why? She was actually one of your better ones."

"It wasn't working out," was his excuse again. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"The ultimatum?" she asked, all anger gone from her features.

"Nah, the accusations. You?"

"Jerk tried to push me against the lockers."

"Hmm."

And through all this, I have been ignored. I've gotten used to this, though. It has been happening for a long while now that I simply got used to being ignored and reduced to a spectator rather than a participant while with my best friends.

"This is what I mean," I said. They both jumped slightly and stared at me as if wondering where I had come from. "Whenever you're together, you go off into your little world where no one else can enter. Not even me, your best friend."

"Carly," Sam said with a sigh, "Can we not do this? Let's just rehearse—

"No! Enough is enough," I was being overdramatic, I knew, but sometimes you had to be in order to get through to Sam and Freddie. "Things are getting ridiculous. It wasn't so bad last year." I looked at Sam, "One guy every two to three months." Then I looked to Freddie, "One girl every two and a half to three months." I stepped back and turned from one to the other. "Now, you guys are breaking up with someone every month, every three weeks even!"

"Come on, Carls," Freddie said slightly annoyed. "Not all of us can find the perfect person when their sixteen and go steady with them for two years."

"Two years, three months, two weeks, and four days!" I corrected. Both Sam and Freddie raised a questioning eyebrow at me. "Yes, I am counting." I glared at them, daring them to mock me, but they just turned away. "Look, at the rate you're going, between the two of you, you'd have broken the hearts of at least half the population of the seniors and juniors at our high school!"

"You're exaggerating!" Sam yelled back.

"You know what that means?" Freddie asked with a smirk.

"Shut up, Freddork. I'm beating you in English, remember?" Oh, no. They're being drawn into their world again. I must stop this.

"Stop!" I yelled. "You will not zone me out until you listen to everything I have to say."

"We do not zone you—

"Yes you do, Sam. You do. You just don't realize it." I paused to breath. "Please just listen to me. I need to do this. I have to save those poor, innocent people that you two keep hurting."

"We're not—

"Yes you are, Freddie. You're hurting them without realizing it. And what's more is that you two don't even care."

"If we're hurting them so badly, why do they still go out with either one of us?" Sam countered with a smirk.

"Because you're iCarly! You're popular. And no matter how many people's hearts you've broken in the past, more will still try to," I turn to Sam, and using finger quotes, "'Tame the she-beast' and," doing the same thing with Freddie, "'Get him to settle down.'"

"People really say that?" Freddie asked in amusement.

"Yes." I said simply. "Like I've been trying to say: You two don't notice how others see you when you're in your own world. You don't notice that—

"If we're going to do this," Sam interrupted, "Could we at least sit down?" She didn't wait for my reply as she headed towards the beanbags and flopped down. Freddie followed after her. But just as he was about to sit on the beanbag beside her, Sam stopped him.

"What do you think you're doing, Benson?" she asked in an annoyed tone. "I'm cold and need my own personal heater." With a smile, Freddie walked towards her. Sam scooted to her right to make room for Freddie. He sat down flushed next to her, but they still couldn't fit in the beanbag quite right. I watched as my two best friends readjusted themselves to a more comfortable position. The end result had Sam's head on Freddie's upper arm and shoulder with her left leg in between both of his and Freddie's right arm wrapped around Sam.

"Do you honestly not see yourselves? Have you not noticed the position you're in?" I asked in a deadpanned voice.

"What about it?" Sam asked. Both she and Freddie looked at me in confusion.

"You know, I was getting ready to convince you two to give others a chance and stay with them longer than just a few weeks. Now I realized that I've been going about things the wrong way. In order to save more hearts, I shouldn't be convincing you two to find someone to go steady with. I should be convincing you to go out with each other!"

"WHAT?!" They both shouted simultaneously before breaking out in laughter. Their heads collided a few times, but neither noticed. Then Freddie bent his head down so he could look at her.

"Sam," he called, and she turned her head up to also look him in the eye. "I think Carly's lost it."

"I think so, too." And they broke out into chuckles still facing each other.

As I watched them laugh together on the beanbag in a rather romantic position with their lips barely an inch apart, I felt really stupid to not have seen this sooner. They loved each other. That's why they didn't care if their other relationships failed miserably after a short amount of time. At first, I considered an elaborate scheme to get them together. Then I quickly canceled that idea and opted to just simply tell them.

"You love each other," I told them frankly and in all seriousness. Their chuckles ceased.

"Of course we do, Carls," Freddie said in a no-nonsense type of way. "We're best friends. We love you the same way."

"No you don't, Freddie," I answered with a small smile. "You and I would never cuddle up like you and Sam currently are."

"Well, you have a boyfriend," Sam countered. "You wouldn't want Roland walking in and seeing you like this with Freddie."

"But it's okay for your boyfriends to see you all snuggled up to Freddie?"

"When did that ever happen?" Sam questioned.

"May of last year. Phil Johnson came here to visit you. He walked in and saw you and Freddie lying on the couch. Freddie was behind you. You were using one of his arms as a pillow while the other was hugging you around your stomach," I answered automatically. "Phil asked what was going on. You said it was nothing. He gave you an ultimatum: Him or Freddie. You got out of the couch, pushed him out the door, said 'Freddie,' and closed the door on his face. Then you went back to lying next to Freddie, and continued watching the movie."

"We both wanted to lie down," Freddie countered. "It was the only way we could both fit on the couch. And I was not hugging her. I was simply keeping her from falling."

"Okay. How about this?" I started. "If you don't like each other romantically, then explain all your flirting."

"We do not flirt," Sam said in annoyance.

"Yes you do." Maybe if I say that phrase enough times, it'll finally enter their stubborn heads. "You flirt when you think you're fighting."

"Flirting and fighting are two different things," Freddie argued.

"Not when it's you two," I argued back. "Sure, when we were thirteen, when you were fighting, you definitely were fighting. But over the years, your fighting have become playful, almost like a game you two play that no one else can join. And it hurt a lot of your past girlfriends, Freddie, when they saw how you interacted with Sam and wouldn't act that way with them."

"So the girls I went out with would rather I push them against the lockers?" he asked incredulously.

"Now that I think back on it, I think I would want Roland to push me against the lockers the way you do with Sam." Freddie sputtered incoherently. "I'll prove it. Stand up."

"You taking away my personal heater, Shay," Sam asked with a glare. I honestly don't know if it was a serious glare or not.

"I'll return him to you once I made my point." Sam stared at me for a long few seconds. Then she turned to Freddie and nodded at him. He sighed and then stood up. I went towards him, grabbed him by the wrist, and led him towards the wall. I situated myself between Freddie and the wall. Then I put my arms around his waist as if to give him a hug. He hugged me back automatically. Suddenly, I grabbed the gartered band of his boxers and pulled up. He pushed me forward using his hands, and my back hit the wall. Ow! That hurt more than I thought it would.

"I'm sorry I pushed you. But what the hell, Carly!" he yelled as Sam laughed so hard, tears were escaping from her eyes.

"I. don't. believe. it!" she said between laughed. "Miss. perfect. and innocent. gave Freddie a wedgie!"

"It's not that funny, Sam," he said disapprovingly from where he stood next to her. I didn't even notice him walk towards Sam. "Move over. Unless you want to freeze." Freeze? How can she freeze when our thermostat is set on seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit?

Sam tried to quell her laughter as she scooted over for Freddie. A few seconds later, they were back to their original position.

"December of last year," I began , "Melinda Parker saw a similar scene play out with you and Sam, Freddie. There were a few differences though. First, when Sam pulled your shorts, you were not annoyed. You were even laughing along with her! Second, as soon as you pushed me using your hands, you let go and moved away from me. With Sam, you actually push using your body. Then you linger I beat longer than you have to. And then you pull away."

"Carly," Sam began. "I think you have to dump Roland if all you do is observe me and Freddie even when he's next to you," she said jokingly.

"That's just it. When you two get together, it's almost impossible not to watch. It's like you draw attention to yourselves without meaning to. Trust me, I'm not the only one who gets drawn into watching. Including your past boyfriends and girlfriends."

"I just thought of something," said Freddie. "Why haven't I been jumped by any of Sam's old boyfriends if they're supposedly all jealous? I know why none of my past girlfriends would fight Sam. They'd die in two seconds. But none of her boyfriends even confronted me."

"Freddie," Carly said in a tone you would use on a child. "You're not as puny as you used to be."

"Ha!" Sam exclaimed. "You admitted he was puny." Both Freddie and I rolled our eyes.

"I said used to be. Now, though, you've grown. And break dancing actually helped you get cut. Add that to the fact that your fan girls would hunt down whoever would want to hurt you, and you are basically untouchable."

"I have fangirls?" Freddie said excitedly.

"iCarly, remember? We all have fans."

"Carly, what was the point of all this?" Sam asked tiredly. "We still have rehearsals to do, and we're wasting time." I, on the contrary, did not feel like we're wasting time. But I did not voice it out loud.

"The point to all this is to prove that what you both want most in a love interest is each other." I saw both about to protest, so I pushed on. "Freddie, when you were in the middle of your date with Sandy Cruz and Sam called you because she was bored. What did you do? I'll tell you what you did. You answered the phone. When Sam asked if you wanted to hang out, you left Sandy in the middle of Olive Garden. Sure you left the money to cover the bill, but you still left. And Sam, when you had to choose between going with Freddie to the Fencing team trials and attending Ken Miller's championship soccer game, which did you go to? You chose to go watch Freddie.

"You turn to one another when you're lonely, you support each other in whatever you do, you are comfortable with one another, you have fun with each other, you've comforted the other when he or she was sad, and when you're together, nothing and no one else in the world matters. Call me crazy all you want, but all those just prove that you not only like each other, you're also in love with one another." I stopped to catch my breath. And as I did so, Freddie and Sam turned their heads to face each other.

"I won't deny those are true," Freddie said to Sam.

"I won't deny it either."

"So, do you want to give it a shot?"

Sam nodded.

Was I seeing things, or were their heads getting closer?

No I wasn't seeing things. Okay, it was kind of awkward standing here watching my two best friends kiss…scratch that, they were making out. Yup, it's a full blown make out session now. I walked towards the exit, but not before I saw them shift positions again. Oh, gosh, Sam just straddled Freddie! I walked faster. And when I heard two distinct, yet harmonizing, moans, I ran down the stairs.

Note to self: Burn the beanbag.

End


A/N: I have no idea why I keep having Sam and Freddie make out on that beanbag. Lol! I just write what comes to mind; and for some reason, what comes to mind is that beanbag. Maybe I should make a challenge for myself. How many situations I could make up that end up with Sam and Freddie making out on a beanbag…Na!

Anyways, please tell me what you think? And thank you for reading!