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-FIVE

The next morning, Sam grumbled sleepily at Robbie as she wandered into the kitchen. "Ugh. What are you doing here?" It was just after sunrise, but she had awoken early and had been unable to go back to sleep. She had left Cat sleeping to go get a glass of water.

"Um, did you forget this is my house?" Robbie reminded her, but he wasn't actually upset. "Why are you up so early?"

"I got up to take a waz and then couldn't fall asleep again," Sam explained, getting a glass from the cupboard and filling it at the sink. She gulped down the whole thing without taking a breath. "You guys have a good night?"

"Oh, yeah, it was… uneventful," Robbie admitted. "We were tired. Sounded like you and Cat didn't go as long as usual either."

Sam's face grew warm at that. "Yeah, things kinda got cut short pretty early. It was… not one of my proudest moments."

"Huh. What happened?" Robbie tried, then quickly added, "The PG-13 version, please."

"Man, you're crazy if you think I'm just gonna tell you," Sam smirked. She paused, then sighed as her smile fell. "I fucked up. That's all you need to know."

Robbie raised his eyebrows. "Is everything okay? Is Cat okay? Did you hurt her?"

Sam chuckled, "She's fine. She's not hurt. I just… have a hard time being vulnerable sometimes. I'm, um, actually kinda worried I made her feel like I don't want her, which is… not the situation at all. But sometimes I just can't…" she trailed off, then bit her lip and said, "Why am I even telling you this?"

Robbie smiled. "It's totally okay, Sam. You can talk to me," he assured her.

Sam sighed. "Sex is too much for me sometimes. I guess I just wish there was another way to show her I love her."

"There's lots of ways to do that," Robbie replied. "Haven't you ever had a girlfriend?"

"No." Sam avoided his eyes. "So, what, I'm supposed to do all those cringy romantic things like write love notes and buy flowers and take her on dates—"

"Cat's a hopeless romantic. She'd appreciate any one of those things," Robbie told her. "It doesn't have to be anything complicated. Like, she really likes breakfast in bed."

"Breakfast in bed?" Sam repeated cautiously. "Like, cooking and stuff?"

Robbie chuckled. "I'm a terrible cook, so usually I'd just order takeout. But I'm sure she'd really appreciate it if you actually made everything yourself. We have the ingredients."

Sam looked around the kitchen. She hadn't used a stove, an oven, or even a microwave for years. But how hard could it be? "You're sure this is something she'll like?"

"You know Cat. She'll be happy you even made an effort regardless," Robbie replied supportively. "You should do it. Surprise her."

Sam sighed. "Okay." She rolled up her sleeves.

It took nearly an hour before everything was in place, and it hadn't been easy, but she'd somehow pulled it off. Back in the bedroom they shared, Sam quietly said, "Cat? Good morning."

There was a tray set up over Cat's lower body as she blinked awake and sat up in confusion.

Sam was standing by the bed with a sheepish smile. "Um… surprise."

In front of Cat was a large platter of steaming hot food. She saw pancakes, waffles, toast, eggs, bacon, cereal, oatmeal, fresh fruit and a tall glass of orange juice, and her mouth was already watering. "Sam, how did—? What did you—?"

"I woke up early and I wanted to make up for last night," Sam explained in an anxious rush of words. "I, um, haven't cooked in a really long time, so hopefully everything's mostly edible. But, um… yeah. Eat up."

Cat giggled. "If this thing wasn't over me, I'd come over there and kiss you," she told her. "I mean, this looks really, really yummy, but you don't need to make up for last night. There's nothing to make up for."

"I just didn't want you to feel like I don't want you," Sam shrugged nervously. "I wanted you to know that I love you even though sex doesn't go perfect with me every time."

"Sam, you're so sweet. I know you love me. You don't need to make me burned bacon and way over-easy eggs to show that." Cat was smiling teasingly. The toast and waffles were both burned too, and the pancakes were very dry. The oatmeal didn't have nearly enough sugar, and the fruit had been cut into strangely shaped, different sized pieces. Cat happily ate the cereal and drank her orange juice. "Do you want some?"

Sam forced some of the burned pieces down. It was too bad, even for her. Blushing deeply, she took the tray and set it aside on the bedside table. "I'm sorry, I really tried."

Cat grabbed her hand and pulled her down. "It's the thought that counts." She wrapped her arms around her. "Please don't be embarrassed. That was so romantic."

"Can't even cook breakfast right," Sam muttered under her breath in frustration.

Cat pecked her on the lips. "It's okay. Just get in here and hold me."

Sam smiled slightly. She started to crawl into bed when Cat put her hand out.

"Ah—clothes off first."

Sam raised her eyebrows, but didn't protest. She quickly shed her pajamas and climbed in next to Cat. Then she curled up against her body to steal her warmth. She hummed in contentment and murmured, "Sleep okay?"

"Mm-hmm. I had this weird dream that we got arrested for stealing pumpkins."

"Pumpkins?" Sam repeated in amusement.

"Yeah. We snuck into a pumpkin patch at night and stole all their pumpkins. I'm not really sure why," Cat shrugged. "We never really said what we were gonna do with 'em."

Sam chuckled. "Not the weirdest dream you've ever told me about."

Cat just smiled at that. "What about you? Did you have any dreams?"

"Uh… honestly? Yeah, I did," Sam admitted. "It was nothing special. We joined the mile high club. I've had the same dream before."

"What's the mile high club?" Cat asked in confusion.

"It's when you have sex on an airplane," Sam explained.

"What, like, in front of people?"

"No, usually in the bathroom," Sam answered with a laugh. "Does that turn you off?"

"I don't know. Those bathrooms are really small," Cat replied. "Do private jets count?"

Sam blinked twice. "What?"

"If I got us a private jet to do it in, does that count?" Cat asked.

"Well, yeah, I mean… are you seriously asking?" Sam wasn't sure if the question was just hypothetical.

"This is something that actually turns you on, right? 'Cause I'd be willing to make it happen for real," Cat told her. "I have a friend who's a pilot, and he owns a private jet. If I pay him enough, I'm sure he'd take us up in the air for a couple hours."

Sam was grinning. "Oh, man, that would be so cool."

"I'll give him a call. But for now…" Cat crawled on top of Sam and nipped at her neck. "I'm gonna go take a shower. Would you like to join me?"

Sam glanced down at the bandages on her chest.

"We'll be careful. We just have to make sure you're not standing in the direct stream of the water," Cat told her. "Do you want to, or no?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed, trying not to sound too eager. Maybe this would give her a better chance to make up for the night before. "Let's go."