A/N: This fic contains potentially triggering subject matter including but not limited to: suicidal references, gun violence, sexual trauma, homelessness, drug abuse, depression, homophobia, and cancer. It may contain inaccuracies. No copyright infringement intended. Thanks for reading!
BOOK ONE - PART THREE - CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
"Okay. You go lay down on the couch and I'll get your bed ready for you," Cat instructed, holding Sam's arm and helping her inside. It was around six o'clock, and Sam had finally been released from the hospital.
Dice had given them a ride home. Inside Sam's temporarily assigned bedroom, Sam dragged herself to the couch and flopped down. The entire left side of her body was aching. She closed her eyes for a minute, and the next thing she knew, Cat was shaking her awake and helping her sit up. The pain killers had her in a haze.
"Come on," Cat murmured, taking her arm again. "I put clean sheets on your bed." She had also set out Sam's bottles of medications and a glass of water on the nightstand. On the floor, she had placed a small trash can for her to inevitably throw up in.
Without fully opening her eyes, Sam groaned and resisted Cat's pull.
"Sam." Cat kissed her temple and tugged her a little harder. "C'mon. What's wrong? Don't you want to go lay down? Do you need me to help you to the bathroom first or something?"
Sam shook her head, and without fully opening her eyes, mumbled, "I wanna take a shower. I feel gross."
Cat considered that. "Hmmm. Okay, well, I don't think you can shower, 'cause we can't get your chest wet. But I could run you a shallow bath, if you want. You just have to be careful."
Sam didn't respond.
"Sam? Does that sound okay?"
"Will you get in with me?"
Cat smiled. "I don't think that's a good idea right now. You should try to relax. If you want, you can use my bathtub—it's bigger, and there's jets."
"Jets?" Sam lifted one eyebrow. "You sure you don't wanna join me?"
The question gave Cat butterflies, and… other less innocent feelings. Her face felt warm, but she said, "We should wait 'til you have some of your strength back. I don't want you to get hurt. I'll sit with you, but I'm not getting in."
Sam whined, "But Cat…"
"I said no," Cat firmly replied. "Now, do you want me to help you upstairs?"
"I guess," Sam sighed. Together, she and Cat slowly made their way out of the room. They encountered Sikowitz on the stairs—apparently, he had finally returned. They made awkward eye contact and said a brief hello before heading down the hallway to the room that Cat shared with Robbie. Cat led Sam through the room, into the bathroom that the two had showered in together a couple of nights ago, and went to the bathtub. She cranked on the faucet and plugged the drain while Sam stood motionless, staring into space.
"Sam, is this warm enough?" Cat asked, trying to get her attention.
Sam didn't touch the water, but she said "Yeah," and shut the bathroom door. Then she proceeded to attempt to undress herself. Getting dressed back at the hospital had been difficult, and this was likely to be just as challenging.
Cat reached in to help pull Sam's shirt up, and Sam jerked her body away hard. Cat immediately backed off with her hands up. She hadn't meant to startle her—Sam seemed much more sober now, and she looked embarrassed. "Whoa. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Cat stammered.
"I don't need help," Sam muttered shakily, blushing and avoiding her eyes.
Cat was confused, as she had already seen Sam naked multiple times, both before and after the procedure, but she didn't push it. "Okay. I'm sorry," she repeated. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'll be more careful about that from now on."
"I'm not scared."
"I know. I just meant I didn't mean to make you… uncomfortable," Cat gently replied. She knew how to deal with her girlfriend's pride by now; though her sexual triggers were still a mystery. "I won't do it again. Do you want me to turn around?"
"Yes," Sam responded, so Cat did. She listened to the sounds of her struggling to get her clothes off, but didn't step in. After a minute, Sam said, "I have to waz."
"Should I leave?" Cat asked, reaching for the door handle.
"No, just don't turn around."
Cat continued staring at the wall. Behind her, she heard Sam using the toilet. It went for a long time—Cat remembered from before that Sam's bladder capacity was pretty sizeable—she would often leave the bathroom door open back then. Cat never got enough courage to accidentally walk in.
There was a flush, and after several more seconds, Sam said, "Okay, I'm in. You can look."
Cat turned around to find Sam sitting waist-deep in the bathtub with her hair tied up in a bun. She reached in and cranked off the faucet for her, then took out a washcloth and a new bar of soap. "Do you want me to help you wash?" She knew it was a long shot, but she thought she'd at least try.
"No, I've got it. Actually, can you run downstairs and bring up my toothbrush and toothpaste?" Sam requested. Normally she wouldn't care, but kissing Cat all the time now made her more cautious of potential bad breath. "And a change of clothes? Something comfy, please."
"Of course. Are you gonna be okay here by yourself?" Cat asked, moving to the door.
"I'll be fine. No hurry," Sam assured her. "Thanks, Cat."
Cat smiled. "Be right back."
Several minutes had passed, and Cat still hadn't returned. She had taken the opportunity to grab a quick snack and straighten herself up a little in the bathroom downstairs—she hadn't had much time to do that these past couple of days.
Upstairs, Robbie was flipping through their mail as he thoughtlessly opened the bathroom door and walked in. "Hey, Cat, have you seen my—" It wasn't Cat. He immediately retreated backwards and closed the door, numb with shock, blurting, "Oh, shit!"
Sam had been waist-deep in the tub and was leaning back against one end, holding the handle of the showerhead. It was submerged between her legs, on the jet setting, with her knees angled outwards just above the water line. Her upper body was flushed, her head was tipped back, and she seemed to have been really enjoying herself before he walked in.
"What the fuck?!" she swore, furiously attempting to cover herself just a second too late.
"I'm sorry, I thought you were Cat!" Robbie said to the closed door. "I didn't see anything!" he lied pointlessly.
"Just get the fuck out of here, asshole!" Sam angrily growled, but it was an empty threat—she was too weak right now to overpower even Robbie.
Robbie whimpered with fear. "Sorry!" He whirled around to leave and ran into Cat.
"Robbie?" Cat already looked angry. "Did you go in there? Sam's in there!"
"Yeah, I… I know." Robbie cringed a little. "It's okay; I barely had time to see anything."
He had noted that Sam's bandaged chest looked pretty painful, but had been in too much shock to get a good look at anything else.
Cat ignored him and pushed her way into the bathroom to find Sam scrubbing roughly at her skin with the washcloth. There were tears running down her face. "Get out," she barked at her.
Cat placed the items she was holding on the counter. "What happened? Robbie saw you?" She automatically assumed Sam was upset because she was embarrassed of her chest.
"Cat, please leave," Sam repeated through clenched teeth. "I want to be alone. Seriously, please." She sniffled and looked away as Cat let herself out of the room.