AN: I wrote this because of my anger at Freddie, YET AGAIN, being the butt of Dan's unfunny slapstick "humour" in iHalfoween. He's OOC but behaving, I believe, like any normal person would in his situation. This is starting out as a one-shot but may go multi-chapter. Reviews always welcome.

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly or its characters.

"Twenty times?" Freddie asked Spencer in an angry, accusatory tone. "You had to slam me twenty times?" he repeated cutting off Spencer's feeble response. The brown-haired teen then looked across the room to his "friends"; neither Carly, Sam nor Gibby had made a move to see if he was ok after his ordeal, which caused Freddie's disgust with them all to escalate. Stewing in his ire the discussion between Nevel and the rest, mainly Carly though, washed over him until a statement from Carly snapped him back to the room as if someone had just released one end of a taut elastic band.

"He's right, we should have done more. I'm sorry Nevel" she said.

Freddie's anger rose yet further at hearing this. He turned on his heel and walked out of apartment 8-C, closing the door behind him and standing outside for a few moments; nobody came after him. Nobody gives enough of a damn he thought.

After changing out of the purple robot costume he returned to the hallway but paused at the Shays' door, deciding he had no intention of returning to the party. He looked over his shoulder at his own door: too obvious, someone would find him there; Sam will probably pick the lock if they eventually decide to go looking for him. He turned his head down the corridor towards his favourite "alone spot", the fire escape; again, he decided, they could pursue him there.

With a shake of his head he made his way to the top floor of Bushwell Plaza, to the room that had briefly been 'Casa del Freddo'. He hoped that the others would never think of looking for him there; he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. His eyes fell on the lumpy single mattress that had been left on the floor and he laid down on it, closing his eyes and reflecting on "Halfoween" and what he was finally realising about the group. "Peers" he decided he had to dub them now, coming to the conclusion that he could not describe ANY of them as "friends": Gibby – he had wanted to fight him over a false accusation, then he had turned around and done exactly what he'd alleged of Freddie ("stealing" a girl from him). He'd then sought to break up Freddie's relationship with Sam because he'd wanted Sam to hit Freddie instead of him, which she had taken to doing during their brief time as a couple. Freddie shook his head in revulsion at the thought of describing Gibby as a friend. His thoughts turned to Sam, his blonde ex-girlfriend – she had been so hot and cold in recent days, a contrast to the outright hatred and torment he'd suffered from her for so many years. Was she growing up? He wondered. Was she trying to be 'more normal'? To be the sort of girl he could be with? That possibility was tempered with the thought that recently she'd also stolen and smashed his pearphone, simply because she was bored and she could. Also he recalled her most recent action, or inaction to be more precise, when she saw that he was inside the robot suit: clearly she doesn't care that much, he reasoned. Hell, if she'd known it was me in there she'd have made Spencer slam me another twenty times he thought moodily. Spencer – even disregarding the whole "twenty slams", he had said something that had cut Freddie deep; Spencer had taken a shot at his sister's track record of failed relationships and had lumped Freddie in with the losers and wasters who had dated Carly.

"I treated her right" Freddie told himself. "I loved her – and loved her enough to let her go because it wasn't real for her."

Inevitably from that reflection his thoughts turned to Carly. He smiled as he thought back on the good: their dance in the Groovy Smoothie, the half-hour make-out session on his bed, setting up and having their study dates, a lot of time spent completely at ease in one another's company. His smile fell, however, replaced with a frown, as more unpleasant memories surfaced: breaking up with her temporarily, just until his casts were removed, only for her to show it was permanent by chasing after yet another loser. He remembered her throwing an orange into his spine because he had the temerity to find Tori Vega attractive (despite Carly herself being in a relationship, with Steven, at the time), then there was the way he'd misjudged her at Nora's: electrocuting him far from the gentle way we had expected ("Carly cares about me" he had told Sam). Looks like I was wrong he mused regretfully, especially as he reflected on today's events – not only had there been no concern on her part for him, she had apologised to the person who had engineered his torment. He cast his mind back one more time, to the question he'd blurted out a week or two earlier.

"It looks like I have my answer" he thought, a few tears forcing their way through his closed eyes as he felt a weight settle on top of his heart.

Despite the misery he'd felt, Freddie slept surprisingly well. On realising he was awake again he shot up, blinking as the daylight streamed through the uncovered windows. He pulled his phone from his pocket – 9:26 a.m.; he'd slept for over ten hours. Better than normal he mused wryly. The phone also told him that he had 10 missed calls and a dozen texts – all from Carly. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, stowing the pear-shaped device back in the pocket of his jeans, only to hear his faint 'Galaxy Wars' ringtone and retrieve the phone again: his mom was calling.

"Freddie, where are you?" she asked in a frantic tone. "I just got home, Carly was hammering on our door; she didn't know where you are. Are you ok? Did something happen to you?"

"Mom I'm fine" he reassured her. "Something did happen, which is why I don't want to talk to Carly – or to any of them. I'll tell you about it later but for now just get some sleep and I'll see you later" and with that he rang off.

Marissa relayed the message to Carly. "What happened?" she asked accusingly. "What did you do to my Freddie that meant he went off somewhere – I still don't know where – all night on his own?"

"There was a… misunderstanding" Carly began meekly, explaining about the chocolates, the voices, how Freddie had told her Nevel was in the costume, what they had done, then realising Nevel hadn't been the robot at that time,

"And you were all too stupid to check first?" she blasted.

"We couldn't get the helmet off!" Carly defended.

Marissa shook her head in revulsion. "Was he at least ok afterwards?" she asked.

"He seemed fine" said Carly, "he left shortly after though and didn't come back."

"He SEEMED fine?" Freddie's mom screeched. "You didn't think to actually ask him? To check up on him?" Carly looked awkwardly at the ground. "No wonder he doesn't want to see any of you" Mrs Benson snapped. "Stay away from my son" she finished murderously, her index finger pointed right in Carly's face. She then turned, walked into apartment 8-D and slammed the door in Carly's face.

"Well!" the brunette huffed before pulling her own phone from her jeans and calling Freddie again. It continued to ring.

"Come on Freddie!" she yelled at it. "Pick up. I know you're around somewhere, you just spoke to your mom!" Unsurprisingly her phone didn't answer her.

Meanwhile Freddie, having spoken with his mom, had decided, now that he was awake, to head back home. He exited the elevator on the 8th floor and made his way slowly, carefully and quietly towards his apartment; he wanted to avoid a confrontation with Carly for as long as possible. He heard the door to 8-C close just as he approached the corner of the corridor and smiled to himself. He quickly made his way to the door of 8-D, unlocked it and slipped inside, quietly locking it again behind him.

"Freddie!"

He turned at his mom's voice.

"Mom! I thought you'd be in bed by now" he responded.

"I wanted to talk to you – about your friends. Car-" she began before Freddie cut her off harshly.

"They're NOT my friends; I'm done with the lot of them."

Marissa looked a little taken aback before she smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Freddie raised his eyebrows briefly before smiling at her. "Now I just need to find some people who actually LIKE me and will care about me." He gave his mother a peck on the cheek and the two Bensons headed for their respective rooms, the mother to sleep, her son to search online for clubs in Seattle that matched his interests.

Freddie awoke on Monday morning with a renewed hope and spring in his step. He had found a couple of tech clubs and a model train club, all of whom were very happy for Freddie Benson from iCarly to be a member. They were a bit of a journey from his home but that suited him, both because he could drive there and because the distance meant it was less likely that anyone that he already knew would be there; his experiences of being kicked out of clubs in the past had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He had ignored another dozen calls and twenty texts from Carly yesterday, though he knew the confrontation would happen today – they shared most classes after all. He left early, hoping to escape before Carly could ambush him in the corridor; the plan worked and he got to school in peace, where he began organising his locker for the day and week ahead. Having completed this task he made his way to the library, selected a book and began to read before school began.

"Freddie" Carly's voice whispered in his ear, hauling his attention away from the book and back to the school around him. He turned to look at her, she looked as pretty as ever but as he looked he saw the concern in her eyes suddenly morph into anger as her face contorted into a scowl. "Come with me" she demanded, pulling on his sleeve and earning a reproachful look from the school librarian. Freddie sighed but acquiesced, leaving the book on the desk, picking up his bag and following Carly out of the room.

"You ignored me all day!" she accused. "I must have called you twenty times and left you thirty texts!"

"Did you ever stop to think that it was because I didn't want to talk to any of you?" he snapped.

Carly blinked, her anger deflating and confusion swelling in its place. Freddie rolled his eyes and continued

"I'm sick of it Carly. Sick of being around people who continually bring me nothing but pain, suffering and misery." She opened her mouth to respond but he pressed on before she could. "Saturday was the last time – what you all did to me."

"We didn't know!" she protested. He quickly continued.

"You found out. And your reaction? There wasn't one. No concern for my well-being, not even a 'Freddie are you ok?' The last straw was that you then apologised to Nevel." Carly gaped. "Nothing for me but an apology for him." And with that he turned and walked off.

"Freddie, you don't understand" she called after him. He refused to stop and was soon lost in a sea of students before Carly could give chase. She began pursuing him but was foiled by the 1st bell, forcing her to turn and head for homeroom while Freddie made his way to his own.

"Hey Freddie" Sam greeted him jovially as she entered 1st period, English. "What happened to you on Saturday? You missed a killer end to the party!"

"Not in the mood Sam" he snapped. Her face fell at the surprising rebuff.

"What's with Freddweeb?" she asked Carly, who had entered the room and was approaching the pair warily. She gave the blonde a dazed look before Freddie answered for her.

"What's up is that I'm done with the lot of you." The two girls spun around to face him. "I'm sick of spending time with people who couldn't give less of a damn about me if they tried." He caught a fleeting gleam in Sam's eye and continued wearily, "Yes, Sam, I know not caring about me is the one thing you do try hard at." Sam dropped her gaze at this as Freddie continued with his tirade. "You guys rig me up in Spencer's contraption – dump me in the basket TWENTY TIMES, nobody cares enough to even see if I'm ok, then she" he spat at Carly, "apologised to Nevel and you all just carry on partying!" He shook his head and looked down at his books on his desk.

"No Freddie, it wasn't like that" Carly began in a pleading tone, only for Miss Briggs to shout at the class to sit down. Carly looked to Sam in defeat, she gave the brunette a sympathetic smile before taking her arm gently and guiding them to their places.

Carly spent the lesson staring vacantly at Freddie sat in front of her, letting the mean teacher's dronings drift over her. To her left Sam was fast asleep but Freddie was staring intently at Miss Briggs, working hard and ignoring all distractions, particularly the brunette whose heart was breaking behind him.

The bell tolled for the end of the lesson. Freddie flew from his seat and from the room, a dazed Carly responding too late to give chase. With a resigned slump of her shoulders she gathered her belongings, nudged a stirring Sam, rousing her from her slumbers, and trudging from the room towards Mr Howard's Maths class.

"Why did they make Monday start with the two worst teachers?" Sam grumbled.

"Oh what do you care? You're always asleep in both classes!" Carly kept her voice light and playfully prodded her friend, trying to keep her concern for the Freddie situation out of her voice and mannerisms. It either worked or Sam was just oblivious as they made it to the Maths department in comfortable silence.

On entering the room the girls saw that Freddie had already unpacked and made a start on work from his text book.

"Getting going early Fredward?" joked Sam as they approached him. He ignored them and continued to work; but any reprisals from Sam were curtailed as the balding, bespectacled teacher demanded a start to the lesson.

Carly resolved to be more alert this lesson, to ensure she could catch up with Freddie at the end of the lesson and clear things up between them. She got her chance when she left an again sleeping Sam at her desk and cornered Freddie outside the toilets.

"You're wrong" she began. "I wasn't apologising to Nevel. Not really. I just wanted his goons out of the way so we could get payback; we slammed him good" she smiled at the thought before Freddie shattered her mood by observing coldly

"Like you did to me."

"We didn't know it was you!" she repeated.

"We've been here before" he reminded her. "The point is that when you DID find out, not one of you cared enough to see if I was ok – which I wasn't" he finished bitterly.

"I'm sorry" she said, shame etched on every syllable.

Freddie looked at her and spoke in a low, emotionless voice. "You were never obliged to love me back; but I know now you never will; it seems I got the answer to my question: it IS too late for you to love me." Carly looked at him with astonishment and more than a little hurt at this statement. "But," he continued, "since you call yourself my friend you should at least care about me. You've also proved once and for all that you don't really – none of you do – and that's why we're done" he ended simply.

Carly stood motionless, processing his words, all of them, as he walked away from her. Freddie, in contrast, was wearing a surprisingly broad smile. It had hurt him to come to the conclusion that he had; it was painful to look Carly in the eye and say what he had done. But he had done what he knew he had to; and he felt free – like he had just dumped years of emotional baggage and pain. He thought fondly of the first meeting he would have with his new tech club tonight, of his intention to return to the fencing studio tomorrow for the first time in years and of a model train club he'd meet for the first time on Wednesday. Freddie's smile grew at the thought of a fresh start with new people, some of whom just might turn out to be true friends who would treat him well.