Sam brushes Cait's hair off the back of her neck, and presses her lips to it softly. She hears a sharp intake of breath, soft really, but louder than gunfire so close, and she pulls back, as far as she can on the thin mattress, but enough to give Cait some amount of personal space.
"You alright?" Sam asks, a whisper filled with as much concern as she can put in it.
Cait remains silent for what must be a few minutes at most, but with the sky silent of sunlight, and the moon reigning, Sam has lost all track of time, and she waits a quiet eternity with near surprising patience.
"I'm fine." Cait returns finally, her voice quiet but harsh. She sighs, but continues, softer and almost shy. "I'm just, not used to this. To having someone so close that isn't trying to kill me. To being touched when it isn't a blow. Guess it says something about me, that me mind is so fucked up I'm flinching at affection."
"Do you want me to find somewhere else to sleep? If it'd make you feel better I wouldn't mind."
Cait sighs sharply, a near hiss that fills the air and echoes through Sam's mind. "I don't want you to have to, I want me brain to calm down about it."
Sam pauses, and thinks, her fingers drumming involuntarily on the mattresses, a monotonic beat to accompany her thoughts. She tries to think of something to do, but her mind is drowned out by the thought of how much she hates that Cait has to bear the burden of her past so continuously, how deep the poisonous claws of her trauma go, how much she almost wishes that she could take away those memories for even the briefest of moments, to bear the pain for her. Truth is, that's the same vein of logic that brought Cait to psycho in the first place, and it's clear to see that that was no solution.
Sam sighs quietly, and can see Cait twitch and pay attention to the sound, encompassing in the drowning silence.
"Would it be easier if you could see me? Then it's not so sudden, might not be so threatening."
Cait shrugs, but turns nonetheless, slow but monumental when she's the only thing Sam can see. The night sucks nearly all the colour out of her, her bright eyes dark, and her hair nearly black, falling across her face, as wild and untamed as it always is.
Sam reaches her hand out, steady and cautious, watching Cait's expression closely, and she softly brushes Cait's hair away, and Cait smiles, softer and gentler than any expression Sam has ever seen her wear.
"Have I ever mentioned how gorgeous you are? Because wow." Sam strokes the side of Cait's face, and smiles as she grins.
"Damn right I am." Cait mumbles, and presses closer to Sam, until her face is pressed against Sam's breast, warm and comforting, and Sam can't imagine any moment before where's she's felt so blissfully happy.
She wraps an arm around Cait, loose and unconfining, and whispers. "Goodnight Cait."
She doesn't reply, unsurprising when moments later Sam can feel her breathing steady into sleep, and she smiles to herself. There are good things in the wasteland, after all.