Fics like (we weren't meant for each other and it's fine) but if the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

Being with Freddie Benson is like an itch beneath her skin that Sam doesn't even know if she's scratching properly. She doesn't know if they're right for each other. She doesn't know if that even matters. Because god if the pieces of his shrapnel heart don't match hers in the sort of way that scrapes a girl raw. Carly doesn't get Freddie the way that Sam does. The way that Freddie's mother fucked him up. Freddie might seem like the most well-adjusted among them, but Sam knows better. She knows better, because she knows what it looked like when her mother shattered the mirrors in the house once- that last time before she was locked up in the loony bin- and Sam had to stare at herself, all funhouse-wrong, in those shards of mirror for so long. There is something in Freddie Benson's heart that is like that the fucked up pace of her own. That beats off-center, never able to follow along to the marching-band drumbeat that the rest of the world turns to. (Aka: Freddie and Sam are friends with benefits that see each other plainly in a way that no one else does, and when Carly leaves town, they might finally find the ultimate common ground.)

Fics like (we weren't meant for each other and it's fine) but if the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

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