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 THREE - PART ONE - CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

Cat picked up her phone and sent out a text message.

hey. r u busy?

Not anymore. Beck's in the shower. Why aren't you with Sam?

sam's in the shower too. things went rlly rong :(

What happened?

we tried something new. but she got scared and ran 2 the bathroom crying.

Oh shit. Yeah you should just give her some space. Did she say anything?

she just keeps saying 'im sorry' and 'i fucking hate you' over and over again. u dont think shes talking about me rite?

No way. She's probably talking about the guy that raped her. Just give her some time to calm down. Go lay down and wait for her.

kk. thanks jade. i'll txt u 2morrow. goodnite.

Cat walked back over to the bed and climbed in, leaving her phone on the nightstand. She curled up on her side, keeping her eyes trained on the bathroom door. She was too anxious to sleep.

The water ran for a long time—nearly half an hour before Cat finally got tired of waiting and crept over to the door. She pressed her ear to the wood. Sam was retching, and she heard splashy sounds—as if tonight wasn't already bad enough. She cautiously knocked and said, "Sam? Are you throwing up? Do you need help?"

"Go to bed," Sam croaked. "I'll be out in a little while."

Cat resisted her urge to argue and instead said, "'Kay 'kay. If you need help, just yell for me." She stood there for a few more seconds before turning and heading back to bed. She resumed her position on her side, watching the door and trying not to panic. After what felt like forever, the running water finally shut off in the bathroom. Sam opened the door and walked out, still naked. She went to the bed and crawled in, lying on her side, facing away from Cat.

"Sam?" Cat whispered after a minute.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"We don't have to talk about it. Do you mind if… can I hold you?"

Sam didn't respond to that.

Cat carefully scooted over until she was fully spooning Sam. She wrapped her arm around her waist and asked, "Are you comfy like that?"

"I'm really sorry."

Cat sighed. "Stop apologizing. I told you; I'm not upset."

"I really thought I could handle it this time," Sam sniffled. "One second I'm okay, and the next second I'm… back there with him and I…"

"Stop. You don't have to explain," Cat told her firmly.

"But… can I, though?"

Cat was surprised—she had assumed that Sam was just trying to make her feel better. This seemed a little different than that. She wasn't sure why, but her heart was already racing with adrenaline. "Of course. If you want to."

"I've… I've never actually told you what happened to me, have I?" Sam asked.

They both knew she hadn't. "No."

"It happened twice. I was twelve the first time—my uncle got really drunk and snuck into my room one night. He made me take my clothes off and tied my hands and feet to the bedposts." Sam spoke in an emotionless monotone. "And then he molested me. He held a knife to my throat the whole time and told me not to scream."

Cat wasn't sure what to say. She was horrified and furious.

"The second time was my mom's boyfriend at the time. I was fourteen," Sam continued. "He had already touched me a few times, and made weird freaky comments. But I was out walking one night, and he followed me. He dragged me into an alley, duct-taped my mouth and raped me."

"Did he ever get caught?" Cat wondered, trying not to overreact. "Either of them?"

"Nah. My uncle's still out there somewhere. And the other guy paid me to keep quiet," Sam revealed. Not even Melanie knew about that part.

"Paid you? How much did he pay?"

"It doesn't matter," Sam muttered.

"Sam, tell me."

"Two-hundred and forty bucks."

Cat was stunned silent for a second. "You let a rapist get away for two-hundred and forty dollars?"

"My mom didn't work at the time. I spent a lot of time at my friend Carly's place, but… there wasn't ever much food at home," Sam openly explained. "I knew it was wrong, but I was hungry, and our electric was about to be shut off…"

"Sam, that's horrible. You know if you'd gone to the police, they would've made sure you were taken care of—you were just a kid."

"Yeah, well, you know how I feel about police," Sam responded, "It's fine. It's in the past now."

"Well…" Cat hesitated. She felt like she owed her some information now. "Since you told me one of your secrets, I'll tell you one of mine. You know how sometimes I can be, um, not very smart about some things?"

Sam's silence answered for her.

"Well, it's actually 'cause I have a mild intellectual disability. I had a traumatic brain injury when I was a little girl. It… changed me. I've never really been the same." It had been years and years since Cat had spoken about this out loud.

Sam shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. "Oh, shit. I never realized it was a real thing—I just thought you were kinda slow." She couldn't help but ask, "What happened?"

Cat swallowed hard. "My brother hit me in the head with a bat. I was seven, and he was ten. He snuck up behind me and…" She bit her lip. "I don't remember the first couple months afterwards."

Sam was in shock. "How come you never told me before?"

"I don't like to talk about it. My doctors tell me I'm pretty good at blending in, so I just try not to think about it," Cat replied. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "I graduated late, you know."

"Huh?"

"I was supposed to graduate two months after you left. I couldn't finish it 'til over a year later," Cat answered. "Which sucked, 'cause I worked really, really hard to keep up with the rest of my class. And then everything just fell apart."

"But then JTC happened, right?" Sam pointed out positively.

"Not 'til a couple years later. Those first two years without you…" Cat slowly shook her head. "I wanted to die. The only thing that kept me alive was the hope that you might come back."

"I know you'll never forgive me for that," Sam sighed. "But I'm gonna spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I promise."

"Good. And if you leave again, I will track you down," Cat stated, and Sam knew she was deadly serious.

"I'll hold you to that." Sam lifted Cat's hand to her mouth and kissed her knuckles. "I love you. Goodnight."

Cat was relieved that the past was in the past. She trusted Sam completely, melting with happiness and curling into her back. "I love you too. 'Night."