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-FOUR
Cat and Robbie stood facing each other in their bedroom.
Cat stepped away from the bathroom door and demanded in a whisper, "What made you think it was okay to just walk in?!"
"I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking," Robbie said again, struggling to push the image from his mind. "Is she really upset?"
"Yes," Cat frowned, still speaking quietly. "Did you see her boobs?"
"No," Robbie quickly responded.
Cat looked at him.
He sighed and said, "Yes. But that's not why she's upset. She's… probably more embarrassed of what I just caught her doing, honestly."
"What?" Cat was confused. "Wait—what was she doing?"
"Um, nothing." Robbie pressed his lips tightly together and started to walk away.
Cat caught his arm. "Robbie, tell me. Now."
When Cat used that tone of voice, Robbie knew he had no choice in the matter. He sighed and quietly said, "She was masturbating with the showerhead. I hardly saw anything, though; I swear."
"She was what?" Cat choked on air. "Are you sure? How do you know?"
"I'm sure, Cat." Robbie was blushing. "Honestly, I would just leave her alone for a while. I don't think she even meant for you to catch her."
"What—but—that sounds really hot," Cat whined, smacking his chest. "Why'd you have to walk in and ruin it?"
Robbie chuckled nervously and pushed her away. "Trust me, I wish I hadn't. But it was her fault for doing that with the door unlocked in the first place; I mean, come on; what'd she expect?"
"It was unlocked 'cause I was grabbing her stuff from downstairs," Cat explained angrily. "You made her cry. She's had a really rough past few days and she was probably just trying to relax. It's not funny."
"I didn't say it was funny!" Robbie defended.
Just then, the bathroom door creaked open several feet away. Sam walked out dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, holding her other clothes. Her eyes were red and puffy around the rims. She wasn't looking at either of them straight. "I'm going downstairs."
Cat rushed to her side and followed her out into the hallway. "Do you need help?"
Sam jerked her arm away. "No. Actually, I kind of just want to be alone for a while, okay?" She went to the stairs. "Is that okay?"
"Well… yeah, I mean…" Cat fought her urge to trail after her. Assuming Robbie hadn't killed the mood, she knew Sam probably just wanted some time to masturbate in privacy—she had mentioned more than once these past couple days how sexually frustrated she was. "Are you sure? I can… help, if you want..?"
Sam made it to the bottom of the stairs. "Maybe later, Cat."
"Oh. Okay." Cat furrowed her eyebrows and watched her go from the top of the banister. Then she turned to Robbie, who had just walked up behind her. "Well, that was… awkward."
"Don't take it personally. She probably just doesn't feel like she has enough energy for sex right now," Robbie replied supportively. "Do you wanna go watch TV or something?"
Cat sighed and shrugged. "I guess." She followed Robbie down the stairs and into the living room, where a massive TV was mounted on the wall. They flopped down on the couch together and Robbie grabbed the remote.
A little over half an hour later, the two of them were midway through an episode of Robbie's favorite show when the sound of an angry yell and breaking glass startled them both. It had come from Sam's room. They looked at each other in alarm.
"Is she okay?" Robbie asked, concerned.
"I don't know." Cat rushed to the room and knocked on the door. "Sam? Are you okay?" There was no response, so she tried knocking again. "Sam, can I come in?" Still no response. Cat slowly turned the door handle and pushed the door open to peek inside the room.
The remains of a broken drinking glass were shattered against one wall, though it seemed to have been empty, thankfully. Sam was in bed, burrowed underneath a heaping pile of pillows and blankets. She was lying on her side, naked, curled up in the fetal position, panting and choking back sobs.
"Hey… hey… shhh…" Cat carefully climbed into bed beside her and wrapped her arms around her over the mass of blankets. "What's going on? What happened?"
Sam whimpered and mumbled something inaudible.
"What?"
Sam shook her head.
"Sammy…" Cat kissed her forehead, which was unexpectedly sweaty. "Can you please just tell me what—"
"I can't come, okay?!" Sam exploded with a frustrated sob. "It hurts to move anything on my left side, and I've never been able to orgasm with my right hand. And your fucking fiancé ruined the showerhead for me, so…" She hid her face. "I'm fucking pathetic; just leave me alone."
"What? No, you're not." Cat kissed her cheek. "It's okay. I don't blame you for feeling frustrated. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I don't know." Sam bit her lip. "Do you have a vibrator?"
"A… vibrator? Like, a sex toy? No," Cat responded shyly.
"Fuck." Sam sighed forcefully. "Well, fuck it then. It's not possible." She turned away.
Cat grabbed her hip through the blanket and rolled her onto her back. "Would you let me try?" Sam didn't immediately respond to that, so she continued, "We can keep the blankets over you so I can't see. And I'll go really slow, and if it's too much, we can stop."
There was fear in Sam's eyes, but she was painfully desperate at this point. "I don't know."
"Do you trust me?"
Sam was trembling, but it was difficult to tell if it was out of fear or anticipation. "Yeah."
"Just try to relax." Cat laid on her side next to her and ran an open hand down the front of her naked body. She stopped to give her right breast a little squeeze before continuing down to between her hips. Then she stopped there, with her hand on her lower stomach, and looked into her eyes. "Still okay?"
Sam couldn't speak—there was no breath left in her chest. She nodded wordlessly.
Cat moved her hand down to rest between her legs, lightly cupping her. Sam's wiry curls felt damp against her palm. She analyzed Sam's face for signs of discomfort. Then she dipped her fingers into the warm wetness there, slowly sliding them down between her folds.
Sam inhaled sharply, then sobbed and began to hyperventilate. That was not the reaction Cat had been hoping for.
Cat pulled her hand away immediately. "Whoa—hey, relax. Did I hurt you?"
"No, I just got—" scared. Sam exhaled shakily and composed herself, looking mortified. "I'm fine. I'm sorry, I… I'd rather not do this right now, if that's okay; I just…"
There were tears in Sam's eyes again. Cat leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. "It's okay. You don't have to explain. It was probably stupid to rush right into that anyways," Cat admitted. "Thank you for trusting me enough to let me try, though."
But now they were right back where they started. Sam sighed and rolled onto her good side, facing away from Cat. "Fuck it. Please just leave me alone; I wanna sleep."
Cat had an idea. "Would you be able to come with a vibrator?"
"Um, yeah. Probably. Why?"
Cat kissed her once more, then climbed out of bed. "I'm going to the adult store. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"
"What—seriously?" Sam turned to look at her.
"You've had a really bad last few days and I don't want you to be frustrated. You'll use it if I buy one, right?"
"Well, yeah, I mean…"
"I'm gonna help you get there, Sam; I promise," Cat assured her with a small, playful smile. "Just hold on." She headed out of the room and shut the door.
Sam laid back and groaned. "Fuck everything."